


Horizon: Knocked Up

by Mauisse_Flowers



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Bisexual Aloy, F/F, GAIA wanted to give her daughter options on child rearing, Happy Ending, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-18 17:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 34,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21280727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mauisse_Flowers/pseuds/Mauisse_Flowers
Summary: The Knocked Up AU no one expected and is ALL Wiggins fault.ORGAIA had enough time to mess with Aloy's DNA to give her... options on making children, because no matter what she understood that who she'd meet wouldn't be Elizabet, and may have hoped for grandbabies. Which results in Aloy getting a Carja seamstress knocked up. .... Whoops?
Relationships: Aloy (Horizon: Zero Dawn)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 91





	1. Rags

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PeanutButterWhiskeyTime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeanutButterWhiskeyTime/gifts).

> A fickle bit of work I am super enjoying. The Chaos Group Chat has been egging me on.

Hani pauses in her work. She looks at the other seamstress. “Do you remember when my last period was?”

The woman’s face tinges pink high on her cheeks at Hani’s words. Hani doesn’t roll her eyes but she ALMOST does. The Carja were weirdly against talking about feminine hygiene. They were up to date on taking care of feminine issues, though. She gets why they were reserved, with all the nobility and male dominated society schtick, but it was so annoying after years of bluntness among friends and coworkers.

“It was at least a full moon ago,” Ayana says, leaning in to whisper the words. A bit of a crease forms in her soft brow, brown eyes damp with worry. “Have you missed a cycle?”

“No,” Hani says, and knows she couldn’t have. The only person she’s had sex with recently was Aloy, who is very definitely a woman. And god wasn’t that a great night.

For having fallen into her favorite video game, she’s having a really fun time.

She clears her throat. And says, “I wanted to make sure I was on track. I need to get fresh rags.”

“Ah.” Ayana nods. “I am sure Mistress Moira will have some.”

“Awesome.” Hani smiles and turns back to her work, steadily pulling the silken edges together. The stitch wasn’t her best work, if honest, but she hadn’t received any complaints yet. If she had more time, she could definitely make it prettier.

“If,” Ayana pauses, cheeks flushed against her dark skin. “If you do not kind my asking, if it is not too forward, uhm, well...”

Hani continues working, watching Ayana patiently. She was a bit nervous, new to the stitch work building. Ayana was also better at loom work than stitching, but Mistress Moira would sooner bite her tongue out than move the new hire to the loom, something only trained (and already rich) employees were allowed on.

“What is the Savior like?”

Hani can’t stop her immediate grin, eyes going softer, sighing involuntarily. “I am extremely interested in marrying her. She’s perfect.”

Ayana chokes on a gasp. “Oh.”

“She’s as cool as everyone says,” Hani goes on, and luckily doesn’t have to explain ‘cool’ to Ayana. They’ve been bench partners long enough that she’s picked up on her meanings a bit. “Very nice and humble. I,” and here Hani pauses, ducks her head, and Ayana blinks in surprise at the normally brash woman’s instant shyness, “I really wish I was her type.”

“Oh,” is all Ayana can manage. “But she chose to bed you, that must mean...”

“It was definitely a one time thing.” Hani shrugs off the sting, straightens her spine. “We flirted, I’m pretty sure Captain Erend got her at least tipsy, and well, yeah. One time thing.”

Ayana looks put out by this. “Imagine though. A seamstress and the Savior of Meridian? Its like a daydream.”

“A worthy romance novel,” Hani agrees, knowing Ayana wouldn’t get it.

“What is a novel?”

And there it is. Hani sets aside her work after making sure Mistress Moira wasn’t near, and turns to have her legs on either side of the bench. She waves her hands as she explains, going through the motions of opening and closing a book. Ayana listens intently, thinks Hani crazy for thinking books would be used to write a fictional love story and not scripture. And is fond of her benchmate.


	2. Late Cycle

Hani frowns at her rags. Ayana calls from their shared kitchen area, “Is everything alright?”

Hani yanks and ties her underwear back on, washes her hands in the basin, and doesn’t say anything about the clean rags. She must be late, that’s all. Unusual, given her clockwork 3-day periods at the end of every month. Even with Ayana as her new roommate, the younger woman’s period had simply shifted to match hers.

But its been two weeks. Was it the diet change, despite having been here for a year?

She exits the bathroom, and smells the sweetness of boar cooked with glazed slices orange and lemon. Ayana blinks at Hani.

“You look pale...er.” Ayana frowns. “Are you alright?”

“Just a little under the weather, I think. I’ll be better soon.” Hani assures, and takes over on helping cook.

Due to working on clothing from the palace, they tended to get a better salary than most. They saved up what they could to spend on bits of spices here and there. It helped their little apartment overlooked the royal maizelands, making it super cheap because its so far from the palace. Once or twice, in the dead of night, Hani had hopped out their lowest window and nicked some corn. Illegal and probably worth jail time, but Ayana didn’t say a word and so Hani didn’t explain where the corn came from. They didn’t eat it often anyway, sticking to greens.

“Will you be able to finish your work tonight?” Ayana frets a little, stirring the porridge. “The wedding is just around the corner.”

“I’ll have the Sun-King’s royal garb finished by tomorrow evening if I work through the night.” Hani gives Ayana a sorry look. “Won’t be able to pull all nighters until I buy enough candles to replace the others after this though.”

“Do you think,” Ayana pauses, tastes the porridge and adds a bit of what might be turmeric but they called something else, “Captain Balahn is marrying the Nora man for love?”

“I’m sure he is.” Hani says, but doesn’t voice her feelings about Captain Balahn. “Especially if he got the Sun-King to officiate.”

“Yes...” Ayana decides the food is ready and pulls it away from the fire, taking it off by the handle with a thick cotton cloth, carrying it to the table and setting it atop a metal cooling rack. “I just wonder... why a Nora?”

Hani keeps her eyes on the chunk of boar meat, turning it slowly. “Would you not marry someone from another tribe if you loved them?”

“It wouldn’t be proper,” Ayana says. “Love is nice. However Father wouldn’t approve, not unless it was the Savior. But...”

“But your dad isn’t big on same-sex marriage?” Hani sighs.

A long, long pause. Then a tiny, mournful, knowing, “Yes. It’s why I’m here.”

Hani had picked up on as much as they’d worked together. Ayana was obviously crushing hard on Camda, who worked the table across from them.

“You dad is an asshole. Marry who you love.”

Ayana blinks, color drained from her face. “I couldn’t possibly. My family’s honor—”

“Only matters to bigots.” Hani returns, gently, and removes the boar chunk from the fire, setting it over the pan to be cut up. “If it bruises the honor that much, prove them wrong. Bring more honor to your family.” Hani turns, stares Ayana in the eye. “And if I have to, I will go talk to Aloy to have the Sun-King officiate. Its the least he can do for her.”

Ayana’s mouth opens a little. Then she looks down and away, eyes on the porridge. “Thank you, Hani.”

“Of course, dear.”


	3. With the Savior

Definitely something is wrong, Hani realizes when she throws up for the fourth time that week. She had gone to see the physician and he’d said she must have eaten something bad. But this wasn’t normal.

Period skipped twice now, she was ill unusually. It was... worrying.

She goes to see the physician again. “Could I be pregnant?” She asks him bluntly with zero build up, jittery with nerves. “I’ve missed my cycle twice, I’m throwing up. My stomach is harder and I’m gaining weight too.”

He stares at her, having to process her words. He glances at his assistant. “Let’s... talk in private.”

Hani glares. “It is a yes or no question, sir.”

He frowns. “Have you been sexually active recently?”

“Yes,” she says. “But only once. With the Savior.”

“Then you aren’t pregnant. Not unless Savior Aloy is somehow male and female.” The physician looks her over, from her loose silk pants to the sleeveless, v-cut neckline of her top. Her hair was braided and bound back by cotton strips. “I suggest changing your diet if you have been gaining weight and do not want to.”

He turns and leaves. She stands there, frowning. If anything, her appetite is waning. She should be LOSING weight.

She didn’t want to tell Aloy but...

Fuck. Was she still even in Meridian?

Fuck fuck fuck. What if she was just losing her mind?

But she would KNOW, right? Or was she just that paranoid? Fuck fuck fuck.


	4. Pregnancy

“I need to talk to you.”

Hani stares, surprised at Aloy’s appearance. She’s been coming to the bar for three weeks now, hoping to catch Aloy when in the city. And is most definitely pregnant. She’s not showing but she’s... sure. And the physician couldn’t deny her being pregnant anymore, either. She’s fucking terrified and needs answers before making her next move.

“So do I,” Hani agrees, and leaves the water on the counter when Aloy nods toward the front door. Aloy waves off Erend, look even and calm. He pauses, half out his seat, then grins and waves bye. Hani sees him sag back into his seat, unseen by Aloy.

They go to Olin’s apartment, now Aloy’s.

“I don’t know how to explain this,” Aloy begins after Hani has taken a seat. “There’s a lot.”

Hani watches the huntress pace. “I know.”

“No, this is a lot.”

“I know.” Hani says again. “I know the truth about the Old Ones and GAIA and Elizabet and you.”

Aloy stops, a leopard hearing a larger predator nearby. She turns to face Hani, disbelief and a bit of wariness on her visage. Hani could count Aloy’s freckles from here, and wants very much to kiss each one, and count all the ones on her skin.

Wow pregnant brain is hella horny.

“How?”

Hani swallows, wonders why Aloy is telling her anyway. She inhales shallowly, organizes her scattered thoughts, and carefully explains. She is unusually still, fingers the only part of her that fidget, picking at her nails and the nail beds. Hani explains her introduction to _ Horizon: Zero Dawn_, of how it was a game, watching Aloy’s wariness fall away into further disbelief and— to Hani’s sadness— pain. She talks about how she’d been talking to her friends and walking home one rainy evening, then been jumped. She’d fallen, hit her head, and woken up in the Sun-King’s physician’s ward, having apparently been found in the palace. She was given a job as a seamstress and the rest was history.

“I’m either dead and this is my dying dream, or I fell into this world.” Hani ends.

Aloy stares. Hani looks back, unflinchingly. Though she definitely wants to cower. Aloy has no other option but to believe Hani, the older woman’s words too much like that of an Old One, explaining technology even Sylens had barely grasped a comprehension of. Aloy was barely better off, helped along by GAIA now that she was rebuilt.

“You aren’t lying.”

“Duh.” Hani can’t help, and smiles weakly. “Hello from a thousand years in the past, and a world away?”

Aloy inhales, heavy and deep. “I don’t know how... but I can try to help you get home.”

“No.” Hani shakes her head. “I want to go home, but I know how implausible that is, so don’t waste your time. This world runs by different rules to mine, science-wise.” She sighs. “And I have something else to tell you.”

“You’re pregnant.”

Hani pauses. “Yes. Am I that obvious?”

“No. Not yet.” Aloy hesitates. “GAIA told me. It’s... it’s definitely mine. She... edited my DNA, she hadn’t thought I’d, uhm, be intimate with another so soon.”

Hani closes her eyes. “I fucking new it. I’m the Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ.”

“What?”

“It’s a old religious reference. I’ll tell you later.”

Hani covers her face. Her shoulders pull taunt. She’s TIRED.

_Hey, God, I don’t believe in you but if you’re out there, its me Hani, can you stop the world? I want off._

“Aloy,” Hani takes a measuring breath to get her voice under control, “I really, REALLY, have to be honest and tell you I’m not ready to be a parent. Ever.”

Aloy makes a wounded noise._ Yeah_, Hani thinks, _me too_. “I don’t know of any plants that,” Aloy’s voice is equally unsteady. She can’t even finish the words, let alone thought.

Of course Aloy wouldn’t know of herbs for abortions. She grew up being taught about a matriarchal society and babies were everything to them. Fuck fuck fuck.

Hani inhales, lungs wrung dry, and heaves. Hot, salty tears drip from her eyes, caught in her hands. They pool in her palms, tremble down her wrist and forearm. “GAIA might know.”

Aloy stands there, quiet. Hani cries. The air is thick and hot with nerves, with the possibility of motherhood, of terror.

“I can take you to her,” Aloy offers in the heavy shroud wrapped around them. “She will have answers.”

Hani, unable to speak past the damp ball in her throat, nods.

“Okay,” Aloy exhales. “We can leave in the morning.”


	5. Ready?

They end up leaving two days later instead. Hani has to ask for indefinite leave and Mistress Moira sniffs but, after Aloy has a talk with Avad, allows it.

As Hani packs what little she owns, she realizes where they’re going will be colder. She pulls out her savings and thinks she might be able to buy some thicker shirts and a fresh set of pants. She nibbles her lip, and goes to do so, haggling hard with the Merchant in the upper city.

Half her savings is gone when she’s procured the pants, a pair of boots, and shirts and she has to remind herself that she’ll be fine. The machines have gotten more docile recently and Aloy is there in case one lashes out. And if she did get hurt... well, she wouldn’t be too upset to lose the fetus. She doesn’t think Aloy would be, and that makes her consider being more careful than she typically would have been.

Hani touches her stomach, softly, worried to feel anything beyond the growing roundness. Ayana isn’t home, as its midday she’s at the stitch house. Hani has written little notes to remind her friend when to pay rent, her favorite meals with the ingredients, and funny little jokes the girl would get. Hopefully she wouldn’t be gone too long.

Aloy comes just before the workers go home for the day, a pack on her shoulders. She is nervous, and looks about the little living room with its couch and chair. There are two little oil lamps strategically placed, meant to light the room up without wasting too much oil.

“It is... nice?”

Hani can’t help but preen a little. “Thanks. It’s come a long way from the empty hovel at the edge of the Maizelands.”

Aloy nods, stepping inside. “Have you packed all you need?”

“Yes.” Hani rubs a shoulder. “I even went to get some cold weather gear at the market. Better than getting it last second at the waypoint, and it gives me time to tuck and hem them.”

“The waypoint?”

“The uh, the border.” Hani rubs her cheek, realizes she’s showing how nervous she is and drops her hands. “Between Nora land and Carja territory.”

Aloy nods. “The Daytower. Do you,” Aloy fumbles, “do you normally buy clothes and then work on them?”

“Yes,” Hani nods, running her hand over the heavy cloth of her travel pack. “It’s cheaper, and Mistress Moira didn’t mind because of my work on Avad’s and other nobles clothes.”

“Oh.” Aloy and her stare at each other, silence weighted and thick between them. Hani thinks she could cut it with a knife and be no closer to easing this curious tension. “We should leave.”

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.” Hani grabs her pack, pulls it onto her shoulders. “It’s been a while since I’ve been hiking so forgive me if I’m slower than you.”

“It’s okay.” Aloy’s eyes flicker to Hani’s belly, meets her gaze, and admits, “You’ve got an extra passenger.”

Hani finds that settles her nerves a little, somehow, makes this easier. Its a curious feeling. She’s still terrified, and still really doesn’t want to have a baby, but if Aloy can take this calmly, why can’t Hani?

“Yes.” Hani opens the door to the early evening light, warm and flushed blood red on the sun-warmed sandstone streets, painting the spring green corn husks a deep russet color off to the right. “I am.”


	6. Beautiful

The entire first week they spend on the back of a pair of striders. At first Aloy had offered to allow Hani to ride with her, but Hani had climbed on with a proficiency that spoke of past experience.

“They’re calmer than the originals,” Hani tells Aloy, patting the machine’s side. “And shorter.”

Aloy was small compared to most, at 5’5, but Hani was even smaller at 5’0. It helped Aloy walked with a tall, long stride and a knowledge she had a purpose, a need to be heading where she went. Hani liked that about Aloy, that she was larger than life and so kind despite her not quite loving upbringing.

Hani’s heart aches a bit and she clears her throat. She smiles wanly at the huntress. “I was never very good at heights. Its a welcome change.”

Aloy pats the strider as well, keeping Hani’s gaze. Then asks, “Did you call them striders as well?”

“No.” Hani checks her pack, elaborating as she secures it to the strider’s back. “We called them horses, and they were flesh and blood. They were black, white, brown, orange, they came in all sorts of colors. And sizes. But the smaller, the less they were made for riding.”

“I would love to see them.”

Hani glances at Aloy from the corner of her eye, watching the younger woman whistle, summoning another strider. “Are we going to GAIA Prime or somewhere else?”

They hadn’t talked much about it, focused more on getting on the road.

“The Eleuthia-9 Cradle. It will have the best care for expecting mothers, according to Gaia.”

Hani nods, the knot of worry in her stomach at the idea of the climb into GAIA Prime easing. Then another rises up, hot and heavy against her throat. “Okay. Won’t the Nora, well, not be okay with an outlander entering All-Mother Mountain?”

“They will if their Anointed says you are needed.”

They hadn’t talked much as they rode through the lush jungle of the Carja lands, passing grazing herds of broadheads and patrolling Watchers. Hani stops a lot, maybe too much, wanting to see how the machines move, the way they interact with perceived threats. She couldn’t help but get down to pet a Stalker, cooing. She goes totally still when she first hears the crackle of a Thunderbird’s wings, eyes seeming to have stars in them as she watches it fly in a slow, steady circle.

“Its gorgeous,” she whispers in awe, voice a little choked. “Aloy...”

She looks at the huntress and Aloy finds herself staring, annoyance at Hani’s need to stop and look at everything fading at the wonder there, hazel eyes huge.

“Do you want to watch it?” Aloy asks without thinking, pleased when Hani bites her lip and says “yes.” They break for lunch, some dry maize-bread, jerky, and an orange they split. The entire time Hani seems transfixed on the Thunderbird, tracking it with her eyes in a lazy, idle circle.

“I honestly thought I’d spend the rest of my life in Meridian, sewing for a living.” Hani says, playing with the orange peel. “I mean, I still will. But I didn’t think I’d travel, either. I’d never get to see everything Zero Dawn and Gaia worked so hard for.”

When she looks at Aloy, eyes luminous from the damp at the corner of her eyes, Aloy’s heart skips a beat.

“It’s beautiful, Aloy. All of it.” She pauses, a visible hesitation in the way her hand stills near Aloy’s resting placidly against the cushioned jungle floor. Then she sets her hand down, longest finger grazing Aloy’s pinky. Aloy’s skin feels on fire, but she can’t move away. “I can’t wait to see more of it with you.”

Aloy manages a smile, though thinks it may come across as a grimace, and, low so it stayed between them— a secret between lovers, Hani read in a novel once— says, “Neither can I.”


	7. Bed

They reach Day’s Height in the evening. Aloy debates pushing forward until she sees Hani grimace and shift on the strider, then gingerly settle her hand on her stomach.

“Lets stop,” Aloy says, dismounting her strider. She comes around to Hani, holding out her arms.

The older woman looks flustered. “I can get down on my own!”

“Your legs are numb after so much riding,” Aloy guesses, having experienced the same issue when she’d first began using the striders to carry her across the lands.

“No.” Hani says, stubborn as a mule and just as unbudging. To prove her point, she throws her leg over the side of the strider and drops to the ground. Her legs give out immediately and Aloy catches her.

“What did you say?” Aloy asks, eyebrow quirked knowingly, unable to stop her smirk.

Hani’s face turns red as the sunset. She sputters a bit before managing, “I’m fine! I can walk!”

Aloy helps Hani grab and lean into the strider— Bob was his name, according to the blonde, though the meaning was lost on Aloy. “I’ll go see if the guards can let us stay the night. It smells like rain and its not good for babies for their mother to be sick.”

Hani watches Aloy disappear into the small fort, leaning heavily on the strider. She pats Bob’s neck. “I am a mess,” Hani murmurs to the machine, “I can’t believe she still wants anything to do with me.”

The three stay there, Hani’s legs trembling and aching, ass sore, but unwilling to back down. She takes a few steps, using the strider to guide her. The other follows slowly, watching placidly.

Aloy comes out of Day’s Height, looking not happy but not mad either. “Can’t let us stay?”

“They can. They will.” Aloy moves to begin unhitching their packs. “But theres only one spare bed thats not in the barracks. It’s not very clean, I checked, but it’ll be fine for a single rest.”

Hani helps, fingers fumbling with the strings. She always ties her knots too tightly and she has to use her teeth on one of the knots. Shes never been good at tying things. Aloy pauses in lifting her bag, watching her, accessing, before pulling her pack fully onto her shoulder. Then she takes Hani’s before the blonde has a chance to even try.

“Wha- Aloy!”

“I can carry them both.” Aloy states. “You need to not push so hard.”

Hani bristles. “I’m not an invalid just because I’m pregnant. I’m not some China doll that’ll break if dropped or put under too much pressure, Aloy.”

Aloy’s eyes widen. There is a beat of silence between them, where those hot, angry words pulse, open and wounded. Her fingers flex on the strap of Hani’s pack, thinking of what to say.

“I am not saying you are,” Aloy decides slowly, calmly. “But you can’t stand after being on the strider so long so you need to take it slow.”

Hani grumbles, face pink and appearing embarrassed. Her eyes shift away, chin tilting down. “I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You aren’t.” Aloy assures. “You won’t be. Ever.”

Hani carefully lifts her head, meeting the redhead’s gaze.  _ She’s exhausted _ , Aloy realizes suddenly, the gauntness there drawn not from lack of diet but from tiredness with a fine darkening under her bright eyes,  _ but hasn’t said a word since day two. _

Worry kicks Aloy in the stomach, harsh, pointed, warm as a sunburn not yet realized. Aloy drops their packs, ignores Hani’s noise of disapproval from the back of her throat, and takes the seamstress’s arm. Aloy pulls her in so the older woman can lean against her shoulder, arm around her waist.

“The day has been long. Let’s get you inside first. I’ll come back for the packs.”

“But, but what if a bandit...”

“There aren’t any right in front of the fort.” Aloy assures, tugging Hani away from the strider. “They’re idiots but not that stupid.”

The two make their way inside, guards saluting and nodding to Aloy as she shows Hani inside, leading her up a set of stairs on the side of the fort and down a low lit hallway. It is thick and hot in the hallway, cramped, like a sauna. Hani hates it but doesn’t say a word, eyes lowered to watch her feet.

Aloy rounds a corner, revealing a tiny area with a window that would face the rising sun. There is the smell of aloe and hintergold, sweet and sickly, with a small desk with drawers that makes her think this may be the fort’s poor excuse of a medical wing.

Aloy has Hani sit on the bed, longer than Aloy and wide enough to be a twin bed. It had little give, packed with prickly hay and covered by a stained canvas. There is a single spot near the head that is stiff and brown, as though someone with a head injury had been lain down on the bed. Whether he survived or not, Hani would rather not guess. It was a lot of dried blood.

“I’ll be right back.”

Hani looks up from staring at the blood with a soft “hm?” before Aloy’s words register. “Oh. Okay. Be safe.”

Aloy watches her for an extra moment, which she seems to do a lot of if Hani is honest, then says, “I’ll bring some food.”

“Awesome.” Hani smiles, is sure it must looked forced, so adds with heavy sincerity, “Thanks.”

Aloy disappears out the doorway quickly. Hani watches her go, exhaustion settling heavy on her bones. Her hand lays over her stomach again, feels her throat run dry as she realizes she’s gotten a little bigger. So busy traveling she hasn’t realized she’s grown.

_ ”The Eleuthia-9 Cradle. It will have the best care for expecting mothers, according to Gaia.” _

That’s what Aloy had said. Did that include ways to abort the fetus?

The idea is preferred. She didn’t want children, doubted Aloy did either. And if Aloy did, she would want them to come from herself. Surely. And explaining how Aloy got another woman pregnant was a hard thing to do, so it was clear this was them traveling to deal with it.

Yes. That was it.

That eases a tension growing in her chest, one of fear, that this may be a trip to make sure the fetus was born. Hani drops her hand, nodding.

No need to worry when this was a trip to take care of a problem.

Aloy brings two bowls of oats with some roasted geese and their packs. Aloy hands her a bowl, drops their packs, then takes the lone chair in the room. They eat in silence, the sound of chewing seemingly dampened.

Sundown dips its finger into the small room, turning the shadows long and fierce. Hani watches the shadows, thinking of a time she used to fear the dark before realizing nothing was there. Or at least, not anything she couldn’t already fight.

“We should reach Morning's Watch tomorrow afternoon,” Aloy says, when she’s finished. “Have you finished hemming your clothes?”

“Yes.” Hani isn’t done eating, instead pushing the last of her oats around. She never got the taste for them, but she didn’t complain over what she was given anymore. She missed stir-fry and mashed potatoes and even McChickens, but she had no one who understood that. Ayana didn’t know what those were, Aloy wouldn’t understand, and GAIA didn’t eat. And was born at the end of the world, when those things didn’t exist anymore.

She understands Elizabet in those Elizabet Lives AU fics so much better now.

“I’ll change into them before we enter the Sacred Lands.”

She gets the last of the oats in her mouth and swallows them down. She continues to mess with the bowl, shoulders hunched forward, tired but unable to really rest.

“What was the world like?”

Hani looks up, thinking over what the huntress said.

“I was around before Elizabet,” Hani says. “So I can’t tell you about the Clawback.”

“I know.” Aloy sets her bowl down, looks at Hani. “What was the world like for you?”

Hani thinks, spoon taping her bowl. “It was hot. And getting hotter every year. The other seasons got shorter, with summer getting longer and hotter. Even places that shouldn’t get hot, like England or Germany—countries places far away from here—were experiencing heatwaves. And a lot of people my age, and younger, were mad about it.” Hani pauses, thinking more. “We were protesting the government, demanded America rejoin something called the Paris Agreement— it meant our country would help fight climate change. 196 other countries agreed to help.”

She frowns. “I had a dead-end job, I guess, I worked in what was called ‘food service’ and ‘retail’. It means I focused on costumer service and making them happy. I managed people under me, so the pay was decent. But my family thought it was going nowhere.” Hani shrugs. “I liked it though. I was only worried about work AT work and could go home and rest, play games, watch TV er, holovids.”

She realizes Aloy is listening, actually taking in what Hani says. She covers her face, a little embarrassed. “I rambled. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Aloy shakes her head. “Why did so many countries need to fight this climate change?”

They go back and forth like that, Hani explaining the early 2000’s and 2010’s the best she could, segueing into video games and then countries, as Aloy asks questions. Its funny watching Aloy’s eyes get big when Hani explains she could talk to Lea all the way on the other side of the world while staying right where she was. Talking about Lea reopens the wound in her chest where her heart belongs, weepy and badly stitched closed.

They light a lamp when Night has properly settled her mantle over the world, bowls forgotten on the desk. Hani has her bedroll out, spread across the bed for when they went to sleep. Aloy is still in the seat.

“I know so little compared to what APOLLO did,” Hani apologizes when she finishes explaining what she knows about America. “Samina and her team did so much and I’m so sorry you can’t access it.”

Aloy falls quiet at this, brow creased, mouth lax in thought. Hani leaves Aloy to think, digging out her sleep shirt and pulling it on. The sleeves were shorter, cut looser than her travel shirt. She slept easier and felt less restricted in her sleep.

“Gaia...” Hani pauses, looks up, “thinks she might be able to get APOLLO back. If I can find Thebes, where a complete, compatible version could exist.”

Hani shakes her head. “Ted would have purged his copy too, the jackass.”

“He might have.” Aloy agrees. “But Gaia and I both think the reward outweighs the risk.”

“And you need to know.” Hani shrugs, knowing it wouldn’t concern her. She was someone Aloy was talking to because she was an Old One and pregnant with her kid. Once the pregnant bit was out of the way, they’d go back to acquaintances instead of travel partners. “Okay. Well, lets go take care of this fetus and then you can go see if Ted left his APOLLO untouched.”

A curious emotion flickers across Aloy’s face. Hani is about to ask “what’s wrong,” when Aloy stands, grabbing her bedroll to beginning setting it up. “We need to set out at first light to reach Morning's Watch by the afternoon.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, are you?” Hani asks, aghast. “There’s a bed!”

“You’re using it.”

“This is a twin. We can share.” Hani scoots over, putting herself against the wall. “Do not pass up a bed just because you have me here. I’m fat but not that fat. I’ll sleep on my side, promise.”

Aloy hesitates, conflict clear, weighing her options.

“I once fit me and three others on a bed this size.” Hani explains. “Get on the fucking bed.”

“It wasn’t comfortable, was it?”

“For me, no. I lost the blanket.” Hani pats. “Now c’mon. I’m as stubborn as you, babe.”

Its a slip of the tongue. She calls all her friends babe. Aloy doesn’t expect it and Hani sees her bite her cheek, cheeks tinged dusty in the lamplight.

“Fine. Only this once.”

“Sure.” Hani wraps her blanket around herself, pulls her knees up a little so she can have the blanket over her shoulders and keep her feet covered, and lays on her side.

There is the sound of armor being untied, dropping to be set in a pile on the floor. The bed creaks shortly after, shifting with the added weight. Hani faces the wall so she can’t see any of this, but she can imagine. Hani closes her eyes.

“Night, Aloy.”

The rustles of Aloy’s own blanket being fussed with before a quiet, “Rest in All-Mother’s embrace, Hani.”

The yellow-gold glow of the lamp light breaking through her eyelids goes out, leaving her in darkness. She inhales deeply a few times, just to center herself, and forces her mind to still.

She dreams about the look on Aloy’s face when she said ‘take care of this fetus’, the curious expression reading as upset and heartbreak in her dream.

She refuses to think that's actually what it was.


	8. Sunrise

Hani wakes up facing the rising sun, curled against Aloy’s back. One arm is tucked against her chest, other over the huntress’s middle. She huffs a few times, confused by all the scarlet hair. She blinks away the last of her sleep and sits up.

Then she realizes what she’d done and drops her head in her hands. “Oh my god.”

Aloy takes a deep inhale at this exclamation, chest expanding outward. Hani watches, fascinated. Until Aloy rolls onto her back, pushing up onto her elbows. She can see the huntress’s muscles working to keep her up and Hani pointedy turns her eyes away.

She raises an eyebrow at Hani. “I don’t think I’ve seen you up this early before.”

“The bed was stiffer than the ground,” Hani says, unsure if it was a lie or truth. Both? Both. Yes, both.

Aloy gets out of bed, taking her blanket with. She immediately begins to roll it up to return to her pack, moving quickly and efficiently. Hani watches, never a morning person. Her body is limp with sleep, lungs thick with it, and she finds herself dozing as she watches Aloy work, soothed by the familiar sounds.

“Get up.” Hani jerks, shakes her head, and looks up at her companion. “We have to reach Morning's Watch by the afternoon. We can restock there.”

“Yeah, yep. Okay.” Hani crawls off the bed, swaying a little. She turns to gather up her things, dropping to the floor to begin bundling it all up, rolling it all together as tightly as she can. Girl Scouts had taught her well, she thought.

She pauses halfway through pulling out her day shirt, finding she’s more tired than normal. The idea of doing anything beyond sitting there seems a mountainous task. Fuck. “I think the extreme fatigue is hitting,” she murmurs, looking up at Aloy.

The woman frowns at this. “We’ll be on the striders most the day, do you think you can manage?”

“Probably?” Hani forces herself to pull off her sleep shirt and put it away, pulling on her day shirt. It makes her boobs hurt like shit having the cloth touch them, and she is really not enjoying this pregnancy stuff. “Maybe? I’ll tell you if I need to stop.”

“Okay.”

Hani doesn’t argue when Aloy takes her pack. She might not move if she shouldered it. She follows much more sedately, the bowls from the previous night in her hands. From somewhere in the keep, she can hear the disjointed Sunrise Chant, sung by soldiers still not used to singing without a priest to lead them. They have to be new, in that case. The last fort they passed by had sung beautifully without a priest.

“Where’s the kitchens?” Hani asks. “I can drop these off. We can eat on the road. Save time.”

“The other side of the fort. End of the hall.”

They pass the singing men, Aloy exiting the fort with a single glance back as Hani finds her way to the kitchens. She uses some of the water in the basin by the sink to wash the bowls out, wipes her hands on her pants, then leaves. The men are finishing up their chants by the time she makes her way down the fort’s steps. The ground is soft from rain, but will likely be dry by noon. Aloy is waiting there, with only one strider, their packs tied onto the back.

“Where’s Bob?” Hani asks, already knowing where this is going.

“This one is Bob.” Aloy assures, with a hint of fondness at the corner of her mouth. “We’ll be riding together while you’re tired. If you fall asleep, the chances of you falling off the strider is less.  _ And _ you won’t stop as much.”

“I like sight-seeing. And the machines aren’t hostile anymore.”

“You can sight-see as we ride.” Aloy nods to the strider. “Hostile doesn’t mean not still dangerous. Now come on.”

“I like having my own strider.”

Aloy doesn’t respond, watching and waiting. Hani crosses her arms, aware of how childish she’s being but unable to help it. She taps her foot, makes a little noise of complaint, and then finally throws her hands up. She gets onto the strider, finds just doing that leaves her ready to crawl back into bed. Her entire body moves with her breathing, leaning into the strider’s neck. Aloy pulls herself up behind Hani, hands settling on Hani’s waist for a moment.

“Inhale slowly.”

“Morning sickness is gone,” Hani grumbles, “but at what cost?”

“That might just be because of your empty stomach.”

“Ugh.”

Aloy leans closer into Hani’s back to reach around and take hold of the strider’s veins, nudging the strider into a steady, smooth trot.

As they move, the sun continues to rise, bleeding through palm trees, splashing the burnished sand with fiery red, blue water of the nearby steam blazing with the flushing pink and gold of dawn. Hani watches the shift from night to day with sleep-heavy eyes, enjoying the cool morning before the heat began to claw its way out of the sand and into her clothes, leaving her sweat-soaked and clammy from humidity.

It felt like she was in Florida again, so knowing they were heading to cooler climates left her less inclined to bitch about the heat.

“How did you learn to be a Stitcher?”

The question pulls Hani back from the fringe of sleep, takes her away from the dancing cliff edge of rest. She hums, then sits up a little.

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like the Old Ones used machines for everything.” Aloy explains, somehow sounding sheepish. “So how did you learn? Why did you?”

“Well,” Hani thinks back, “the first time I learned to sew, my mom taught me. One of the dogs we owned, a creature you don’t have here, they’re like a small companion you keep, had torn a hole in the couch. Mom was upset she couldn’t keep her hands steady enough to do it, so I offered to. Mom was really sick, was my entire life, and had never had steady or strong hands because of it.”

Hani stops talking, dampness in the back of her throat burning. Her tongue felt like ash talking about her mother, knowing Aloy had never gotten to know Elizabet and had lived her entire life without GAIA. And from shame with how she’d treated her mother in her last years. But the story wasn’t over, so she swallows back the pain, of the worry of misstepping, and continues.

“Mom taught me a simple stitch, wide and with a big, sturdy thread. Took me like thirty minutes because I kept fumbling and stabbing myself. I hated it. Swore to  _ never _ touch another needle.”

“Why did you sew again, then?”

“There was this… activity.” Hani had already explained the Girl Scouts to Aloy, something the huntress had compared to the Nora Braves. A far cry, Hani had said, but in a pinch they could become fighters in their own way. “The Girl Scouts where I was had something called San Augustin, it was a play the Girl Scouts did for two days straight where you were in character the whole time, and I applied to get in. But I had to make my own clothes to fit in with the story we were telling. Our sewing machine was broken, and we couldn’t fix it, so Mom sat me down and over the course of the week, I put together my clothes by hand. My stitching was terrible, but passable. I was proud of it, too, so I continued to sew. Clothes for my dolls, fixed tears in my dad’s clothes, I did whatever I could.”

“So you learned for yourself.” Aloy summerises. “With your mother?”

“Yes.” Hani says, softly. “I could teach you, if you want.”

Aloy’s hands tense on the strider’s reins. She takes a slow breath, then says, “I… wouldn’t mind. You could also teach our child.”


	9. Want

They rode separately, all possibility of talk smothered, once again on seperate striders after Hani had forced her way off a few hours previous, wrath that of a Thunderjaw, so pissed she couldn’t even find words. And terrified. So, so terrified. She’d never seen Hani look so terrified or appear so betrayed.

For once Aloy isn’t glad of the silence. She can’t explain her case. GAIA had advised Aloy not say anything despite having voiced her own tentative hope on the road from GAIA Prime to Meridian. After Hani’s immediate voicing of wanting cessation, GAIA hadn’t said a word about the baby’s health. There was no room to negotiate. And Aloy did travel a lot, barely staying in one place long unless it was Eleuthia-9 or the Prime facility. Who would want to raise a baby alone? Rost had been glad to raise Aloy, yes, but he would have probably enjoyed help too when Aloy’s baby caterwauling got to be too much for even one man.

There was still the lingering desire for Aloy. It wasn’t a child from her body, yes, but it was still hers. Earlier than planned, if Aloy had ever found time to plan for a child at all, but…

But.

That was the sticker. The arrow lodged in the bone.

But Hani had a lot of good qualities for motherhood, and was adept at being a Stitcher. That wasn’t something to scoff at, even if women were more expected to be Braves or Healers.

Them staying in Nora land was out of the question, though. Aloy had no idea how the Nora would react to their Anointed having a child with an outlander, but it wasn’t likely to be favorable. The Cut or Ban-Ur as well, it was too cold and they were too harsh. Meridian was the likely place, especially with Hani’s job there, but Aloy didn’t like how women were raised there and neither did Hani.

But, but, but.

Aloy glances at Hani, sees her stony expression faced forward. She had Bob going faster than Aloy felt comfortable with, a near gallop Aloy kept pace with but only just.

“It was unwise to speak up at that time about your desire to keep the fetus.” GAIA says in Aloy’s ear, a bit of reprimand in her tone.

The first time in days she’d spoken with Hani awake and in ear shot. “I can’t not say anything, Gaia,” Aloy argues, keeping her voice under the pound of the striders feet. “I want this baby. I want her to help me raise them.”

“Want and need are very different things, Aloy.” GAIA advises. “You yourself only yesterday told her you have plans to go in search of Thebes. When would you make the time if helping raise the ensuing child? Hani has also shown a constant aversion to the idea, though I believe that to be rooted in something more psychological and the knowledge she may have to raise the child alone.” GAIA continues, tone softening, “You want the child, but she needs to not have it.”

Aloy knows this. She  _ does _ . But she’s always been prone to leading with her heart instead of her mind or anger. It was something GAIA had praised her on, but also preached caution over. She watches Hani spur the strider to overtake hers, to get ahead of Aloy. Aloy lets her, asking, “So what do I do?”

“You have two options.” GAIA’s tone is clinical, even, almost like HADES’s in its lack of intonation, revealing the option she didn’t favor, “Apologize and help her to the Cradle so I may administer the drugs needed to abort the fetus. Or,” she pauses, voice warmer and unable to hide her hope, “apologize and convince her you will stay to help her raise the child. She may still decide on cessation, but knows you are willing to be a partner for her.”

Aloy nods, already a new plan in her mind. “Or, and this is risky, I could take them with me. There isn’t anywhere I would feel comfortable raising the baby. And Hani seems to like traveling.”

“That is also a possibility, with limited success.”

Aloy knows this and kicks the strider to go faster. “I know.”


	10. Thunderjaw

They stop for an early lunch only two or three hours from Morning’s Watch. At the pace Hani is pushing Bob, they could get halfway to Daytower by sundown. It’s not a bad idea, though she still doesn’t like the strain Hani is putting her body through, likely an attempt to miscarry the baby.

Hani sits far away from her on the lip of a stone wall, closer to the wandering Thunderjaw. It had stopped once to survey them, deemed them nonthreatening, and went back to its meandering path. Hani eats her bread, jerky, and fruit in silence, drinking from her boarskin. Once the Thunderjaw wonders extremely close, mandibles waving past Hani by a few inches. She reaches out to pat it, causing Aloy’s heart to fly up into her throat, hand moving for her bow immediately.

The machine pauses, sways back into the touch. Hani rubs the mandible, a smile finally blooming across her face since that morning. She mumbles nonsense to the machine, softening as she pays the machine affection.

When she’s finished her fruit, she gives the Thunderjaw one last rub and stands, walking to Bob. She doesn’t glance back at Aloy, simply hauls herself up onto the strider.

Rage, Aloy has learned, is a very strong emotion.

But so is compassion.

“I’m sorry.”

Hani freezes on the strider, machine half turned back towards the path. Aloy wasn’t even near her own strider.

“I highly doubt that,” Hani returns, scathingly short. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have said anything.”

“I know.” Aloy slowly walks over, watching Hani tense, an animal cornered. She grips the strands of the strider’s neck tighter, ready to run the minute she felt threatened. “And I am sorry. We are still going to the Cradle for what you need. I couldn’t help without saying something.”

“I’m not going to raise a kid for you.” Hani returns, still biting. “No kid deserves to deal with me as their parent, or have an absent one.”

“What if I’m there to help?” Aloy offers. It’s like when GAIA rebooted. Hani’s face is as blank as GAIA’s right before she was fully back online, processing all the information she could. “You and me together, a family.”

Hani blinks, expression guarded. “You have to go to Thebes.”

“I can with you and the baby.”

“You cain’t take a _ baby _ into _ uncharted wilds_. For all we know thera wolves an’ gators out there! An’ there ain’t no guarantee the plants and vegetation is _ edible_.” Hani pauses, clears her throat, and in a more clear voice says, “No. I am not doing this. You don’t even _ like _me. I was a one-night thing. You’re doing this out of obligation.”

“You’re right.” Before Hani’s look of hurt triumph takes hold, Aloy continues, “It _ was _ a one-night thing. But I am not doing this out of obligation. I could have ignored you, let you see if any Meridian healers had a way to get rid of the baby. Instead I am taking you to Eleuthia-9 to make sure you either safely abort the baby or safely have it.”

“And I’m not having the baby.”

“You are not.” Aloy agrees. “Unless I can convince you.”

“And you won’t.”

“So you say.”

The two stare each other down. And then the Thunderjaw ambles forward, nudges Hani in the shoulder for more attention, nearly knocking her off the strider in the process. Hani, one hand resting on a mandible to appease the machine, meets Aloy’s eyes. With a daring chin tilt and angry flare of her nostrils, she speaks.

“I’d like to see you try to convince me. I haven’t wanted kids my entire life.”

Aloy takes that as the challenge it is.

“Then I will.”


	11. Daytower

They reach Daytower at noon the following day. Hani has calmed down considerably by then, though that might also be due to her excitement to finally reach the gate. She hops off of Bob, leading him nearly into Daytower before Aloy can stop her. She reluctantly lives Bob outside of the gate, untying her pack. She immediately makes for the first stall she sees with a Nora selling jewelry, eyes bright with excitement when she sees the stitchwork and tanned leather.

Aloy follows, watching Hani ask questions about everything on the table. How long each piece took, what the meaning for each symbol was, just excited and delighted to talk to someone about their craft. She settles on buying a bracelet with All Mother Mountain stitched into it and a few beads for her hair, two solid blue and yellow and one stripped in the same colors. She thanks the flustered Nora woman and moves to the next stall, an Oseram looking for scrap and parts.

“Forgive me for not acknowledging you sooner, Anointed,” the merchant says, bowing and souring Aloy’s amused mood. “She was very interested in my wares.”

“I know Hani is.” Aloy responds, tone even. “I’ve been traveling with her.”

“O-Oh.” The merchant glances at Hani, asking the Oseram man what kind of parts he was looking for, and what they could be used for. He was grinning, leaning in a little, and answering each question with as much fervor as the questions were asked with. “She is quite… unusual company. If she Carja?”

“Nope.” It was a word she’d picked up from the Old One. “Not Oseram either.”

The merchant scrunched her nose. “Someone from further in the Tainted Lands?”

Aloy scowled. “Where do you think you’re standing right now?”

The merchant’s eyes widen. “I mean no disrespect! This is still Nora land!”

“Run by Carja?”

The merchant shuts her mouth, realizing she’s backed herself in a corner. Aloy finds she has nothing more to say. She’s already said all she could several times before, and still a good portion of the Nora cling to their hate and superstition.

All she can think to say is the first words she ever heard Hani say, when enraged with one of Erend’s newer vanguards badmouthing women who wanted to work alongside them after talking up how great Ersa was. Aloy had told Erend about it later and gotten to see Erend punch the guy. “Practice what you preach,” Aloy states with no small amount of venom then turns to follow after Hani.

“That’s so many different uses than I thought!” Hani gasps as Aloy walks up, bouncing on her toes. “Holy shit!” She turns to Aloy. “Did you hear him? Hintergold is also great for oiling machine parts!”

The guy looks embarrassed. Several other merchants are giving him a disgusted, disapproving look. It takes Aloy a moment to piece together what must have happened and also can’t help her own look of disgust.

“Ever told your mother that?” Aloy asks.

The merchant turns even redder as Hani looks between them, confused. Then realization dawns on her face, mouth forming a little ‘o’ before she glares at him.

“What the everloving fuck, asshole?” She demands, and both the huntress and merchant are shocked at how quickly she went from confused to angry. It’s like traveling with a Thunderjaw, Aloy muses as Hani continues to shout at the man, docile one second and then shooting at every one and thing the next. “Do I fucking look interested to you? How does asking about the different fucking uses of a goddamn Watcher lens translate to interest, jackass?”

“Uh, well—”

“‘Uh, well’ nothing!” Hani continues as the merchant gives Aloy a pleading glance. “Don’t look at her! You were talking to me!”

“You’re gonna summon the guards.” Aloy says. “And get us kicked out.”

Hani shoots Aloy a glare. “Don’t think I’m not still pissed at you, Miss ‘I Want You To Keep The Baby’. If you want me to have this kid, then put a ring on it!” She turns right back to the cowering Oseram merchant with that declaration, laying back into him.

The guards  _ do  _ come, but when they see its an exasperated Aloy, tiny yelling woman, and an Oseram merchant they laugh.

“Got a new companion?” One asks Aloy. “A little short tempered, don’t you think?”

“She’s pregnant,” Aloy explains tiredly.

Which immediately turns Hani back to her. “Yes! Which is your fault!” She points at Aloy. “Wrap it before you tap it, dammit!”

“That's less cusswords than you used on Nedlend!” The other chuckles. “Can’t be that mad at the Savior then, can you?”

Hani’s nostrils flare. She takes a deep breath and Aloy can tell both find this extremely entertaining, as do most of the people here, but she is not getting kicked out of Daytower for Hani shouting obscenities at the guards.

“We are going to find a room for the night,” Aloy cuts in, “and get something to eat.”

Hani glares, but whatever tirade she’d geared up for with the guards is gone at the word ‘eat’. She spits “goatfucker” at Nedlend, who jumps, then lets Aloy lead her away.


	12. If You Like It Then...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to post a chapter a day but work is very busy this month.

Aloy lays in bed, Focus open. “Gaia,” she calls softly once Hani’s breathing has evened out on the other side of the room and turned onto her other side. A foot pokes out of the blanket, likely too hot. Her hair is coming out of her carefully kept cloth and braids, and Aloy is thinking of offering to redo them in the morning, with the beads Hani purchased and several of her own. A sign she was something to Aloy.

“Yes, Aloy?”

“What does ‘put a ring on it’ mean? Hani says that’s the only way she would keep the child with me.”

“Oh.” GAIA sounds effervescent. “I had heard the saying several times and asked Elizabet the meaning. It was a “slang” form of telling someone to marry them or move along. There was even a song, though I do not have it saved. The Apollo subfunction should have it.”

“So she wants me to be her mate, not just help raise the child?”

“It would appear so.” GAIA is probably glowing like a supernova, which is why she isn’t showing her physical form. “This is a wonderful development.”

“I should ask, just to be sure.”

“That is typically how you would marry someone.” GAIA explains. “Then there is an engagement period as the wedding is planned where the couple live together and learn to coexist, announce the upcoming nuptials, have the families properly meet, and possibly searching for a house or change in jobs. However, I do not think Hani is the type for such.”

“I don’t know what an engagement is beyond what you just told me.” Aloy grimaces. “And I don’t have a…  _ house _ .” That was Rost’s home. She could never live there with him gone.

“Do not worry.” She can hear the AI’s smile. “She seems interested in solely you.”

“That’s… good. I guess.”

The idea of marriage was utterly terrifying, more than a baby, but if she was ready to a raise a child with someone, why couldn’t they be her mate?

She looks over at the sleeping woman. She had rolled over again in her sleep, now on her stomach, face to Aloy. The pillow was bunched under her chin, arms hidden beneath it. Her mouth was open, allowing her to breathe, a soft, wheezy sound.

Other than that outburst at lunch, which Hani had been simultaneously horrified over and felt was justified, she was a fine companion on the road. Aloy didn’t hate her, and Hani had a lot of insight into the past and just… in general. She was friendly with people and liked to talk, a good balance to Aloy’s typical preference of having things short and to the point. But Hani could be quiet too, which was equally enjoyable.

“What kind of ring do I give her?”

“Typically, in her time, you would give her a gold band with a diamond on it. This isn’t practical and is quite costly, however. A plain gold or silver band, even tungsten or titanium, would be best suited to your lifestyles.”

Aloy wasn’t sure who to talk to about gold and silver rings beyond Avad, who was a whole weeks ride back from where they’d come. But this tungsten or titanium was an option. Maybe Gera? Or even Taim? They’d certainly know how to make rings. And so would GAIA.

“Could you do it?”

“What do you mean, Aloy?”

“Could you make the ring?”

“If I knew her size, certainly.” GAIA pauses. “What are you thinking?”

Aloy turns on her side, watching the seamstress Old One sleep. “She would be a fine mate. Do they have wedding bracelets?”

She had seen that Carja wore them. For Nora, a woman approached a man she felt would sire a good child and the pair approached the Matriarchs for their blessing if both were willing. It was a communal celebration if a pair decided to be in union beyond raising the child, where there was an exchange of braids and beads, and the community came together to help them get started on the future home.

“I have no records of them, but I am sure there must be. You can ask her in the morning. For now, sleep.”

“Gaia, I am not tired.”

“You may not be,” GAIA agrees, “but the morning comes sooner with the closing of eyes.”

Aloy wants to protest, feeling almost like a child with GAIA’s soft, careful guiding. Protesting WOULD make her a child and so she goes quiet, flipping off her Focus.

“Good night, Gaia.”

“Pleasant dreams, Aloy.”


	13. Blue Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little longer than the usual chapters, but no less quick to read.

Hani rolls over on the bed and cracks open a single bleary eye. The faerie blue haze of pre-dawn is there to greet her, but Aloy is not. Her bag is packed and left on the bed, a sign she would be back. On the little table between the beds, nestled beneath the tall, wide window is a pitcher of water, a clay cup half filled, and a note.

Hani sits up, grabs the note, then squints at the poor spelling the Nora knew that said she’d be back with supplies soon. It once again had her angry at Ted goddamn shitstain Faro, and she hopes Aloy finds a copy of APOLLO at Thebes with a corpse to be set on fire.

She was definitely teaching the baby how to read and write.

Hani drops the note in shock at the thought.

“No no nope. Not gonna happen.” She bites her thumb, spooked at the idea she was already inclined to keep the kid.

If Aloy wanted to have and raise a child, she’d definitely be a good mother and was welcome to it. Miriam Sobeck was proof of that, and even without Elizabet around to raise her Aloy had come out as willful, unstoppable, and compassionate as she’d wanted her daughter to be. Being raised by Rost and with strong matriarchal customs helped this along.

On the flip side, Hani had no intention of ever having kids. The women on her mother’s side never had good times with birthing, typically died when the kids were still young, and it was an all around bad time. Not to mention the paternal Britts got kicked out of the entire British Isles for horse stealing and bootlegging, they were bad people inherently. Her father’s side had anger issues two hundred years long, a thing for yelling at/hitting kids, and just being shitty parental figures. Her blood alone made her a bad choice for motherhood.

And Hani wasn’t going to have this kid because if she did, she’d feel responsible and stay to help Aloy raise them, even if that meant being stuck, alone, in a cold cabin with a shrieking baby while Aloy was off trying to find fucking California. There was so much wrong with Hani, and she couldn’t saddle a kid with that.

She grabs the water, downing the cup in two large gulps that made her trachea ache. Then she pulls out the treated leathers and furs she’d bartered for ages ago.

“Don’t think about it and you’ll be fine,” Hani mumbles, stripping to her smalls. Filling the clay cup with water from the pitcher, Hani wets a rag from her pack and wipes herself down in the faerie blue light, getting into every crease and nook and cranny.

She checks her underwear after she’s done and is a little glad to see no blood. She stomps that feeling down while pulling on the leather leggings-pants. They’re tighter in the stomach than she remembers and has to undo the laces on the sides. She keeps her thin, short-sleeved cotton Carja shirt on, despite it’s honestly horrendous shade of badly dyed purple and tugs the tunic on over it, heavy and warm, made from well-tanned boarhide. There are some cloth wrist wraps—and rabbit-fur socks—she’d bartered for the previous afternoon, later of which would be helpful in the colder climates and help her boots last longer without the Athlete's Foot Stink.

When she’s done dressing, she can only guess how obviously outlander she must look. She’s always liked the cold, felt more comfortable and safer in the snow, and thinks she might be over prepared for weather in the Sacred Lands. When she’d shown Aloy what she’d packed, the huntress had said it would be fine.

So it must be fine.

Her hair is a disaster so she undoes all her braids and removes the rags that, honestly, probably needed a good cleaning at that point. She grabs the bone comb she keeps tucked away and shakes out sand and dirt, feels like an uncultured heathen doing so, and brushes out the leftovers, but doesn’t complain.

She can’t remember the last time she complained. _ Verbally _.

Hani puts up everything, grabs her shard purse and attaches it to the belt she keeps with a little sewing kit, and exits the room. The only stall vendors open this early are ones selling fruits and vegetables, hawking them as perfect for breakfast. She passes a guy selling baskets of tomatoes, ears of corn, eggplant, squash, and what was probably a zucchini-cucumber bastard child, beelining for the woman with fruits, particularly round watermelon, aka the sweetest fruit ever. The Carja brings a large cleaver down, splitting the ripe fruit right in half. Its bright red and damp with juice, making her mouth water.

Hani slows her pace so she isn't obviously _ too _ eager, and asks, “How much?”

“Three shards for a slice.”

“I meant half of it.”

The woman pauses in preparing to split one half into quarters. She squints through the surreal light at Hani, as if to make sure she’s real. “Its 10 for half.” Hani digs into her purse, counting out the amount and passing it to the seller.

“How are you going to eat that?” The vendor asks as Hani takes it. “You can’t exactly stick your face in it. And the skin is nasty.”

To answer, Hani takes out the little knife she keeps in her sewing kit and cuts the top layer into cubed spaces. Hani shrugs as she then pops the center cube out, throws it in her mouth and chews.

“Not many people buy half the watermelon?”

“Either the whole thing or a slice,” the vendor responds. “You’re the first to ask for half.”

“It’s less messy,” Hani responds. “You get watermelon AND it already comes in a bowl you don’t have to clean afterwards.”

The vendor nods, looks at the remaining half of the sweet watermelon, and leaves it as is, grabbing another to cut into slices. Hani turns and walks off to find a balcony and watch the rest of the morning rise into day.

Despite facing the dusty plains, the air is cool, damp with the night’s previous rain. It smells like snow, too. She eats in silence, like she normally does when alone. Watching the wandering Longlegs thoughtfully. And its nice.

It's easy to admit she’s missed being alone, not talking all the time to fill up space, or answering questions about the past she sometimes desperately misses. She never finished AC:Odyssey or Dragon Age Inquisition like she promised, and she hates breaking promises. And she misses air conditioning. So much.

Her eyes are drawn to the Thunderbird in the distance and she also knows she wouldn’t change this for anything. So long as she got the option to visit her friends and family back home to say goodbye, she’d be happy to stay here. And not be knocked up.

She carves out the last of the sweet watermelon, savoring it with each chew, and then drinks the dredges of the sugary nectar. She’d definitely need to chew some Valley’s Blush and mint for her teeth. Hani wipes her knife off on the corner of her tunic and returns it to its pouch before glancing around.

Seeing no one watching her, she drops the remains over the side. It disappears out of her eyesight, with no possibility of hearing impact. She turns to return to the room.

“I saw that.”

Hani jumps with a yelp, spinning around to face Aloy. Her arms are crossed, a curious quirk to her mouth.

“It's not illegal to toss fruit peels.”

“Not now it isn’t,” Hani flushed. “But it was for me.”

Confusion colors Aloy’s face. “The world back then sounds so strange.”

“Don’t I know it. I don’t miss in the slightest.”

The two stand there, staring at each other. Hani’s anger has nearly fizzled out by this point. Aloy has promised she’d help her abort the baby despite wanting it. Aloy also said she’d try to convince Hani to keep it, that she’d help raise the baby, but Hani wouldn’t believe that until she saw it.

“Do you want to be married?”

Hani’s eyebrows jump to her hairline, watching Aloy who appears dogged but… unsure, hesitant. “What?”

“You stated that I should ‘put a ring on it’ if I want to raise the child with you.”

“That wasn’t… I was… _ What? _”

“Do you want to marry me?”

“Well, I mean. Uh.” Hani gapes, a little gobsmacked Aloy even understood that reference, let alone took it seriously. And _ yes _ , Hani wanted to marry her. She’d never completed a video game once in her life until Horizon: Zero Dawn, let alone _ twice _ , and first chance she got she fell into bed with Aloy. She was really thirsty for strong, independent female characters. “I, I, _ well— _ we, we don’t even know each other.”

“Yes we do.”

Hani stares some more. “How do you figure that?”

“You said this was a ‘video game’ for you, all from my perspective. That would mean you know quite a bit about me, right?” Which yes, Aloy found really weird but it was listed with the not discussing Elizabet technically being her and that she got another woman pregnant _ somehow _. Or the whole GAIA is her mom too but is also Elizabet’s child and Aloy rebuilt her and—yes. Not touching that.

“Yes…”

“And you aren’t shy about talking about yourself.”

Hani presses her lips flat and puffs her cheeks out like a squirrel, face red. “I don’t like the quiet!” Liar, she _ did _ but that was when alone, or with friends she knew really well.

“So we know each other well enough,” Aloy reasons. “I know you would be a good mate, and you have stated once before I would be a ‘fantastic girlfriend’.”

Hani covers her bright red face, mortified and wondering how her morning went from Pregnancy Panic to Watermelon Eating to what is amounting to an insanely convoluted marriage proposal. She has to be dying, or she was dropped in one of Wiggie’s fics where she’d later end up in Thedas and meet up with her friends, or _ something _.

“Would you marry me and be my mate?” Aloy asks again.

“Yes!” Hani throws up her hands. If this is a dying fever dream, or she’s gonna be chucked into Thedas later (which fuck you Wiggie and fuck you Xenon _ if she is _), she’s gonna live this shit up. “I do want to marry you and be your mate. Old Ones called each other husband and wife, or in our case just wives.”

“Like the Carja and Oseram?”

“Yes, like them.”

Aloy grins and Hani really wishes she grinned more because that’s a gorgeous smile. Maybe jokes would do that? Dad jokes definitely.

“We’ll head right to Hunter’s Gathering then.”


	14. Name

“How does this work?”

Hani is sat on her bed, legs crossed, back to Aloy. “I don’t know as much about Nora customs as you might think, or which you follow.”

Aloy is braiding her hair, twisting and tucking, tying several off with the beads she’d purchased and a couple from Aloy’s own braids. They’ve sat in a companionable, if slightly tense on Hani’s end, silence.

“It’s a mix,” Aloy explains. “These braids say you are mine, that you’re family, and the beads mean you’re my… wife.” She can hear the smile in Aloy’s voice as she says it. “Are there any customs you would like to keep?”

_Vows_, Hani thinks, but they really don’t know each other well enough for those. _To be walked down the aisle by my brother, insane as he is._ _Wear a pretty dress and kiss you in front of a bunch of people after saying “I do”. Have a wedding band._

But this was solely because Aloy wanted the baby. They didn’t walk close together, or hold hands, or compliment each other. And a wedding band was stupidly impractical because of Aloy’s hunting of machines, things that ran on electricity. What…? Oh.

“Last names.”

“Like Ebadji and Chen?”

Hani shifts, wiggles her ankle to stave off the numbness creeping into it. “Yes. I’d like us to share last names.”

“Hani Sobeck?” Aloy says, a little tilt to her voice. “It’s… okay.”

Hani laughs. “Haniya Sobeck.”

“You have three names like Talanah?”

Hani laughs a little more. “I do, but the  _ ya  _ is actually apart of my first name. Hani is an unusual name here but easier to overlook than Haniya.”

“Hm, Haniya Sobeck…” Aloy’s fingers trail through her hair, patting it down, before brushing the strands aside. Fingers, warm and calloused and strong, curl over Hani’s shoulders, down to her elbows.

Hani’s breath caught in her throat as Aloy leans in, breasts pressing into Hani’s back. The huntress sets her chin on the seamstress’s shoulder, eyes closing. Her hands slip off Hani’s elbows to wrap around her middle, one hand brushing over her stomach, raising gooseflesh along her arms.

“It sounds right.”

Hani opens her mouth, can’t find words.

What the everliving fuck. Holy shit. She  _ is _ dying. Has to be.

“You, uhm, you really do care?” Hani swallows. “About me?”

“I would not take you as my  _ wife _ otherwise. Marriage is terrifying to me.”

Hani stares at the sandstone wall, trying to process that. And coming to a conclusion.

“Okay.” She lays her hand over Aloy’s, shifting it back to her belly, but lower, where the growing roundness felt most prominent. Aloy goes stiff behind her, predator slow. “Okay. I’ll… do this. On one condition.”

“...which is?”

“The second I am mean to the kid, or like I’ll hurt them, you take them and leave me.” Hani swallows the cotton in her mouth. “There is no second chance or telling me to not do it again. No promises. I won’t be like my father. Either I have you and am a good parent or I don’t.”

The ensuing silence is heavy, oppressive, pressing down on them. She thinks for one wild second that Aloy will backoff, say she can’t do this, demand her beads back and agree to abort the baby.

Instead Aloy, the most touched-starved and tactile person she knows, pulls her in closer, wrapping her in warmth and protection. “I will. But I know I won’t have to.”

She can’t find the will to say,  _ You might. _ Aloy’s always been great at instilling hope and the want to be better in people. Of course Hani would be weak to that ability of hers.

So instead she says, “Have any names in mind?”


	15. Hunter’s Gathering

Hani is sleeping in their tent. She’d been exhausted the entire ride from Daytower to Hunter’s Gathering, seeming to doze in Aloy’s arms. They were lucky she’d stayed awake long enough to eat some of the stew Gera offered them before crawling into bed.

Gera had remarked on it, almost casually. But Oseram weren’t really known for casual, and as soon as Hani was gone she’d turned on Aloy and asked, grinning, “She yours?”

Aloy had felt her cheeks burn, thinking,  _ Yes, both are mine _ , before responding, “Yes. She is my mate.”

“Never took you to be the motherly type, or to settle down, little spark.”

“I, ah, am not settling down.”

Gera’s eyebrows flew upwards. “You’re leaving her to raise the kid alone while traveling?”

“They’re coming with me.”

Gera stares, slack jawed, and then leans back with a deep, raucous guffaw. “Of course you found another wild heart! That kid’ll know how to ride a strider and use a bow before they walk!”

“Gera, she’s trying to sleep.”

“I bet she is with all the traveling you two do,  _ while  _ she’s carry that little spark of her own.” Gera winks. “ _ And _ whatever romps you get up to.”

Aloy doesn’t recall Gera being this eager to tease, though that may be because of the circumstances. “I have a favor to ask.”

Gera calms a little. “What is it? You don’t typically ask favors of people.”

“Hani is from a tribe far, far away,” Aloy hedges. “Her people exchange rings when they become mates, a simple band of metal—sometimes gold or silver—to wear on their left finger.” Aloy wiggles the finger in question. “Do you know of anyone who could make a ring small enough?”

“Hm.” Gera thinks, rubbing her chin. “I can’t say that I do, unless you want to travel all the way to the Claim. But that’d make your trip longer, and you seem eager to get them to Nora land before Hani’s too big to travel. Don’t blame you for that, either.”

“Yes, that’s... not ideal.” Aloy sighs. “Thank you, Gera.”

“No problem, little spark! Way I see it, asking for marriage advice is the least I owe you for getting my fool of a husband back to me alive.” Gera pats her on the shoulder hard enough to make the shoulder ache, grinning. “Now go cuddle your wife. It’s late and, if she’s still awake, I’m sure she’s feeling lonely.”

“You are,” Aloy searches for a kinder word, “much different than I remember.”

“I’m enjoying watching you get flustered. You’re so unflappable.”

Aloy takes that as her cue to escape, crawling into the tent set up by the fire. The heat of the fire made the little area warm enough that Aloy needed to remove her shirts, leaving her in her thin cotton undershirt. Hani looked little better off, in her old Carja shirt and underwear, the rest of her clothes folded by her head, blanket kicked off. She breathed softly, resting on her side with knees pulled in close, cheek resting on her palm. Her other hand laid over Aloy’s resting spot, the bedding significantly closer than it had been over a week previous.

Aloy is a little shocked it's only been near a week and a half since they set out. And already so much had changed. A week ago they slept on opposite sides of a fire, now they shared a tent, bedspace, and a name.

She liked it.

Aloy’s draws Hani’s blanket back over her before laying down under her own bedding. Then she scoots close enough to hold Hani’s hand.

She looks over her wife’s face, slack with sleep, shadowed by the weak firelight bleeding through the thick canvas, face washed of its usual hardy flush by sleep.

“Beautiful.”

It's said louder than intended, and Hani grumbles. Aloy stares, hoping she stays asleep, unsure of how to explain her sudden decision to call her wife beautiful without warning. Hani wrinkles her nose, hand flexing under Aloy’s. There is a pause before Hani then shifts, moving closer to Aloy, curling up a little more, seeking out protection and familiarity even in sleep.

Aloy can’t help but reach out her other hand, running her fingers over Hani’s cheek. She hums in her sleep, tilting up into the touch, before Aloy has moved her hand, brushing away some of the loose hair fallen in the Old One’s face.

She could definitely get used to this.


	16. Strength

They leave Hunter’s Gathering at noon after talking with Gera and Kendert for a bit and Aloy taking an hour to talk with the ground’s keeper on the other side of the settlement, though she’d returned with a bit of a temper after. They won’t reach the first Nora settlement for at least another day and a half to two, maybe even three at the pace they keep. It doesn’t help Hani is having trouble keeping anything down from her nausea and the rocking of the strider combined.

“Some benefit from having something to chew on at all times while gestating,” GAIA recommends to Aloy as Hani is bent over in the bushes, releasing nothing but water and stomach acid at this point. Her face is sweaty and splotchy, hair held back by Aloy who is more than a little concerned.

Hani breaths harshly through her mouth, tears in her eyes. She trembles, a harsh thing that rattles her bones. And yet she doesn’t seem weak. If anything, she looks fierce. She stands up after the trembling has passed and she’s spit out the last of the vileness in her mouth. She takes a sip of her water and gargles it, spitting it out.

“I’m not getting back on Bob,” Hani swears a moment later. “I can’t keep throwing up. My throat is going to be raw and maybe even bleed otherwise.”

“We’ll be slower on foot,” Aloy protests.

Hani glares back, seeming every bit as wild and fiery as Aloy herself. “I hiked over sixty miles on the Appalachian trail, carrying a fifty pound backpack, while sick with the flu over the course of five days. I can hike with a twenty pound pack while pregnant through Nora land.”

Struck silent by the ferocity of the other’s words, Aloy watches Hani make her way over to Bob. For a brief moment her footing is uneven, and she sways, terrifying the huntress, then she shakes her head and digs into her pack, pulling out a little pouch of mint and Valley’s Blush. A few of the leaves and petals disappear into her mouth and she chews, even rubbing the mush against the backs of her teeth with her index finger.

“Aloy, I’m sorry for snapping. I know you’re worried,” Hani sighs after she’s spit out the mush. “But I know my body pretty well. It’s a fucking asshole that doesn’t give up. If I stay on the strider, we aren’t getting anywhere soon.”

“You swing between nausea and exhaustion constantly,” Aloy returns, coming over to begin untying their packs. “If you get tired while we travel, we’ll have to stop.”

“We’ll still be going faster than if I was on horseback. Er, strider-back.”

She can tell Aloy doesn’t believe her. She reaches out, stopping the huntress’s agitated movements with a gentle, brief brush of fingers across white knuckles. “Aloy. Trust me. I’ve trusted you with so much. On this one thing, let me lead.”

Aloy looks at her, tiny, red from exertion, but looking healthy and hale. She thinks of a couple she saw once in Brightmarket, who looked to have argued, and after making up they had kissed. Brief and chaste, followed by a hug.

Aloy presses her forehead to Hani’s, shoulders sagging, eyes closed. On instinct, Hani leans in, settling a hand on Aloy’s shoulder, other cupping her cheek. Aloy thinks this is what that kiss and hug felt like. Comforting and close, speaking of a trust not usually so easily given.

“Fine. But the  _ second _ you stumble—”

Hani sighs, smile fondly exasperated. “I’ll get on a strider.”

“Good.”


	17. Nil

It does take them a bit longer to reach the first settlement, but the upside is Hani was right about being faster on foot than on the strider. She takes in the sights as they walk, picks berries to eat as they go which keeps her nausea at bay and doesn’t damage supplies too much. And she runs, too, pulls off her boots and yanks her pants up to wade through streams, kicking the water and laughing. It’s like traveling with a child, but it reminds Aloy of how wonderful the place she grew up is, and that for Hani she is used to cities of metal and cities of sand.

“I’ve missed this,” Hani laughs in delight at the first sign of snow. She picks up a handful off a bush and takes a bite, no hesitation. “We couldn’t just eat snow back home. There was germs and runoff and some asshole might have peppered a layer with rocks or piss.”

“An animal might have,” Aloy warns to deaf ears as Hani turns, dropping the handful of half eaten snow to go startle a group of geese into flight.

Hani, Aloy had quickly learned, has a seeming irrational hatred of geese. They were a protected species in her time, and were “assholes who attacked anyone and everyone”, and “you couldn’t fight back without getting jail time.” It boggled Aloy’s mind and exasperated her.

That seemed to help form the basis of their relationship: Fond exasperation.

“There are bandits around,” Aloy calls. “Please be more careful.”

“I have you,” Hani calls back, turning to fall into a snowdrift, beginning to make a ‘snow angel’. Hani had described an angel to Aloy once, and the idea of a benevolent winged humanoid being was interesting. It was like All-Mother.

Aloy, because of those three words, flips on her Focus to check the area. She finds only a few boar, a turkey, and the distant herd of Scrappers. It eases the worry in Aloy’s chest, so she trails after Hani, who had gotten up and dusted herself off. They return to the proper trail, taking it at a quick step.

Hani has a very low self-preservation instinct, Aloy has learned. Or it’s not been present in full force around Aloy. She seems content to wander all over the Sacred Lands so long as she stays in Aloy’s eyesight as she does so.

“What if a strider went deranged and attacked?” Aloy asks, coming up on Hani’s right. “I might not react in time to protect you.”

“Doesn’t Gaia have all the subfunctions back under control?” Hani asks calmly. “The belligerent ones, at least?”

Aloy pauses at that. “I never told you.”

“It's easy to guess.” Hani shrugs. “To me, anyway. I can’t wait to meet her.”

Softness suffuses Aloy’s heart. She swallows the damp in her throat. She leans in, as Hani has done, bumping their shoulders together. A playful grin tugs at the woman’s mouth from the corner of Aloy’s eye before Hani bumps her back.

Then she reaches out, tangling their fingers together, leaning close enough for Aloy to smell the sweet oil Hani used when combing her hair.

“I look forward to your meeting as well.”

They walk in silence for a long time, watching the sun filter through leaves and shine on snow. The world is a wild quiet, with bird song and the snuffling of animals in grass.

Hani takes a preparatory breath, as though the words are hard to speak. Not because they are a lie, but because the weight of their truth is a burden she fears giving up.

“I don’t miss home when I’m with you.”

Aloy squeezes Hani’s hand, throat tightening. She cannot think of anything to respond, how to say she feels the same without using inadequate words.

“I used to, to day dream about waking up in a hospital bed,” Hani says, with a weak laugh, like she’s forcing the sound through bloodied teeth. “Surrounded by my friends and family, because the idea of spending my life as a seamstress, making clothes for nobles, was worse than anything I’d ever imagined. That I  _ had _ been jumped for the two dollars in my pocket and left for dead, but someone saw me and called for help so it was just a long dream, was a better idea.”

The words hang between them, heavy and thick, hot as freshly spilled blood. Aloy cannot think of anything at all, mind blank at these buoyant, aching words. Hani doesn’t seem to expect a response, looking resolutely ahead at the road before them, ready for absolutely anything that life throws at them.

Aloy opens her mouth, searching for words, has them on the tip of her tongue, dancing upon her lips. They are stolen when there is a fine, clear  _ crack _ of a branch under the weight of a human foot. Aloy releases Hani’s hand, turning on heel to their right as she pulls her bow out, notching an arrow.

Her Focus flips on to see through brush and tree, but it isn’t needed. A familiar man stands a short distance away, hands lazily raised, watching with a forever disturbingly empty gaze. The casual smile on his lips is as false as the gold of Hani’s earrings.

“Oh my god,” Hani breaths behind her, coming closer, up to Aloy’s non-dominant side.

“Nil?” Both say in sync, one venomous and the other in wonder.

His eyes jump from Aloy—the clear threat—to Hani, curiosity clear. Aloy pokes Hani with her elbow, nudging the short woman back behind her.

“Keeping new company?” He asks, tone even, with a smidge of color to it that would mean politeness.

“It’s none of your business, Nil.”

“Isn’t it?” He looks to Aloy. “We were partners, once.”

“There are no more bandits. Our business is through.”

Hani wiggles behind her, eager to join the conversation but aware it wasn’t a good idea. So instead she leans on Aloy, hands settling on taunt shoulders, to peer over at him. Her eyes are big, darting all around to take in his clothes, the tan built upon years and years of a sun bearing down, the feathered headdress, and the unnearring blank silver eyes.

She makes a tiny noise of wonder, wiggles again.

“ _ Hani _ ,” Aloy hisses, but the woman doesn’t stop.

She finally breaks, ducking down to lean around Aloy and say, somehow breaking the tension, “You don’t show up unless there’s bandits.”

“That’s right,” he agrees, a curious uptick of his mouth. “Are you one?”

“God, no,” Hani shakes her head. “I can barely hold a pair of scissors, let alone a knife. Where’s the camp?” She nudges Aloy who is glaring at her. “Is it nearby or is it a bit of a travel? Because it might be a minute before we get there. I’m pregnant.”

Aloy tenses even further, but Hani doesn’t bat an eyelash. Nil stares at her as though she’s the strangest creature he’s ever seen, then looks at Aloy.

“Very strange company.” He doesn’t move, instead inclining his head toward Hani. “The camp is just past Devil’s Thirst. It seems the worms can’t help but to crawl back out once the ground softens with the blood of war, churned up by chaos. They’ve taken the reclaimed camp back.”

Hani frowns. “Well that’s fucking rude.”

He grins, barring his teeth, a flash of untammability and then it's gone. The bloodlust  _ should  _ make Hani’s own blood curdle but she’s very impassive about the whole thing. “Isn’t it?”

“I bet they killed the people there too, the pricks.” Hani looks at Aloy. “I’m totally fine with you dropping me off at the Hunting Grounds and going to help him. Two heads are better than one with this shit sometimes.”

“Hani,  _ are you crazy _ ?” Aloy demands tightly.

“Eh, probably? I mean, I am here, aren’t I?” Hani shrugs. “But seriously, you can go help him if you want. They’ll probably keep hurting and killing people in the meantime.”

Aloy sighs, dropping her bow and returning her arrow to its quiver. She glances at Hani, then back to Nil. “Devil’s Thirst, you said?”

“Indeed.” His eyes shine. “If you’re interested, you can meet me at the eastern edge of the camp, on the ridge just out of eyesight.”

“I’ll… think about it.”

Nil nods. “Your loss.” He grins again, that flash of predator here and gone, back among the undergrowth. “My gain.”

Hani smiles and waves him goodbye as he disappears back into the woods. Nil doesn’t return the wave, instead giving her that same What A Strange Creature look. “I was wondering if we’d get a bandit camp sidequest. People were bitching about the bandits in Meridian village.”

“Hani, I am not helping him with the camp.” Aloy is still tensed, teeth clenched.

“And why not?” Hani asks, hands on hips. And somehow still walking with that air of motherly I’m Disappointed In You. “He wouldn’t ask if he didn’t need it, or at least have missed you. Guy is weird as fuck.”

“I,” Aloy shakes her head, “no. You are more important right now. Nil can handle himself.”

Hani does the fish mouth at her words, face brightening to pink. Then she shakes her head. “I all but confirmed the sidequest. You should go. He’ll be sad.”

“That is Nil, he won’t be  _ sad _ .”

“Dude was practically heartbroken you refused to fight him.” Hani points out. “You definitely left an impression. You’re one of his people now, and sociopaths don’t usually willingly let them go.”

“Hani, he’s dangerous.”

Hani laughs at this. “And you aren’t? I’m not scared of you  _ or  _ him. And I’m not scared of being left in the Sacred Lands alone for a day. I’ll be with the groundskeeper. I could also come along and sit out of sight if you want.”

“You aren’t letting this go until I agree, aren’t you?”

“Yep!”

Aloy sighs, pressing her hand to her face.

“And stop clenching your teeth. It’s bad for them.”

“ _ Hani! _ ”

Innocently, smile falsely sweet, the woman says, “Yes, wife?


	18. Devil's Thirst

Hani sits cross-legged in the tall red grass, her red scarf for cold nights in Meridian wrapped around her head as though she was in Paris. She had even lifted her chin and done a shitty impression of a French accent after pulling the scarf on, but Aloy hadn’t gotten the joke so Hani had dropped the charade.

Aloy had decided to bring Hani with instead of taking her to the hunting grounds. She had wanted to get the camp done as soon as possible before heading into the Embrace.

To be honest, entering the Embrace as an outsider absolutely terrified Hani. Many weren’t even kind to their own Outcasts before Aloy became the Anointed. And even then, what were the Nora like when she was gone? Hani had wanted to use the time at the hunting grounds to find out.

Which she thinks she’s said “hunting grounds” a lot in the last ten or fifteen paragraphs.

Hani leans back into her palms, looking up at the sky. It was a bit overcast, but it wasn’t Threatening Rain Overcast, or so Aloy said.

Her stomach flutters a little when she’s reminded of Aloy right before she’d disappeared to go find Nil. She had crouched before Hani and pulled from her pouch a little familiar triangle.

_ “I carry this extra in case my current one breaks. I was going to give you a new one at the Cradle but…” _ Aloy had explained, placing it with care in Hani’s palm, curling her fingers over it.  _ “We can’t communicate, they aren’t connected except to share information, but I’ll have Gaia figure that out when we reach the Cradle. In case we get separated…” _

Her voice had trailed off, eyes pained. She curled a little closer to Hani, pressing their foreheads together. Hani had leaned in, unable to help herself. Something about the gesture felt more intimate than any kiss, sex, or even hug.

_ “I should be more worried about you.” _ Hani had joked.  _ “You’re going into a bandit camp.” _

_ “On your suggestion.” _

Hani giggled.  _ “True, I did. Last chance to back out.” _

_ “No.” _ Aloy shook her head.  _ “You’re right that they’ll continue to hurt and kill people. And I don’t want that. I want the world to be safe.” _

Aloy had closed her eyes, seeming to savor the moment, then pulled away.  _ “Stay here and stay out of sight.” _

_ “I’m not scared of them.” _

_ “You might not be, but I am.” _

Hani can’t find anything to respond with. She instead reaches out, grabbing Aloy’s hand gently in hers.  _ “Don’t worry. If any escape I’ll hide in the trees.” _

Aloy had nodded reluctantly, leaving her. Hani had watched until she couldn’t distinguish the burnished red of hair from the swaying crimson reeds in the breeze.

Hani looks around, checking for any animals or people, then reaches up towards her ear. She’s barely brushed the Focus before its turned on, lighting her world up purple and blue. She grins, sitting up a little straighter but careful to not be taller than the reeds.

In the distance a bunch of little orange people light up, and four in blue. Two are within the camp, bound and gagged in a corner. Then there’s Aloy and Nil, crouched in the reeds.

One of the two lookout archers gasps and gags, then falls down in a heap on his little perch. Hani turns away from that, instead reaching out to mess with the settings. She couldn’t change the color, which was fine, but she found the little User Interface that told her who it belonged too. Gaia had put Aloy’s name down, which Hani leaves alone, because it was Aloy’s.

She instead spends the time digging through little audio files Aloy has found, listening to the Last Girls on Earth, hears Bashar on the Apocashitstorm logs. She closes her eyes, listening to these people so far from Aloy’s time and born after Hani left hers.

There’s a rustling behind her, and Hani startles. The audio cuts off, and she hears GAIA suddenly, “Hani d—”

The AI is cut off by a hand grabbing Hani’s scarf and yanking her up, Focus snatched off when the scarf is pulled down to reveal her face. It goes flying off into the grass. She shrieks, has time to realize the camp is in chaos—and  _ burning _ —before being shoved around to face the person. It's a man, dressed in a mix of rags, rusty and stolen Carja armor, and badly tanned furs. She hisses at him, attempting to scratch and kicking too.

He boxes her ear, hard. It takes her a minute to orient herself and in that time realizes she’s been moved again, a wide arm, roped in muscle, wraps around her throat, hand caressing her cheek like a lover. The other hand holds a sharp blade, pointed right at her stomach.

She’s staring at Aloy, her bow drawn and aimed at the bandit, a fury unlike any Hani recognizes on the woman’s face. Nil is nowhere in sight. Wildly, she hopes him to still be alive, so she can kick him for not making sure all the bandits were dead.

She can’t recall the last time she shook in such a way, or when she felt she’d failed not just herself but everyone.

And she’s terrified for the baby.

“Drop the bow,  _ Anointed _ ,” the bandit calls, “or your fellow Nora here dies.”

“I’m okay!” Hani yells, before the bandit shakes her, hand against her cheek tightening, the knife moving closer to her stomach. She could  _ feel  _ it through her cotton and leathers and furs. She grabs his wrist, hoping it could stay his hand from moving the knife closer.

She shakes harder, angry and scared and worried.

“Shut up,” he snaps.

Aloy grits her teeth, hissing at the man. Her bow begins to lower.

“ _ Fine _ .” Aloy growls.

“Arrow back in the quiver.”

Hani clenches her free hand in a fist at her side. She can barely breathe through the panic attempting to settle in.

She shouldn’t have convinced Aloy to do this. Fuck she’s a  _ moron _ . She’s an absolute dumbass.

“I’ll be taking the bitch with me.”

“ _ Excuse me? _ ” Hani gasps, before he presses down on her windpipe. She chokes.

“For such a mighty Nora,” the bandit calls as he takes a slow step backwards, forcing Hani to follow. “You’re not all that great at protecting your people.”

Hani bites her tongue, seeing red  _ livid _ . How  _ dare _ he say that? What the fuck was this prick’s issue?

Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, dick-cheese!

Without thinking she raises her free arm and rams it back, right between the plates of armor into his soft solar plexus. He grunts, hand with the knife dropping. She brings her heel down between his badly made boots, hoping she crushes the toe she hits with a dislocating  _ crack _ . He leans in with a yelp and Hani takes the opportunity to snap her head back, hearing another satisfying  _ crack  _ with a howl of pain. She drops to her knees when his arm across her throat weakens, turns, brings her fist right up into his crotch.

She then falls flat on her ass, scrambling back. Far back. She’s never been great at the crab crawl but right now safety outweighed her lack of flexiness.

The bandit staggers, blood pouring from his broken nose. He reaches for her but before he can take a step an arrow lodges in his shoulder with a delightfully fatal thump, and then there’s Nil, jumping on the bandit’s back with a manic, giant grin baring teeth to the incisors.

Hani has seen a lot of horror movies, but she could never really stomach the carnage some had. She found that most video games kept the blood low, making it easier to handle. With Nil, and her now here, it seems that flies out the window.

She’s far enough away that the blood doesn’t hit her, but the spray goes far. Its brighter than the feathers on the man’s headdress, and the cut is terrifyingly clean from the bandit’s jugular around to the other side.

Aloy is at her side, turning her face away from the sight. Hani curls up, wheezing, “Holy shit. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m leaving you at the hunting grounds next time.”

Hani, despite the awful last minute or so, laughs weakly. “So you’ll clear some more bandit camps?”

Aloy sighs, as if regretting the decision thanks to Hani’s reaction alone. “Yes.”


	19. Knife

Nil hangs around a little while, which is weird because the man doesn’t strike Hani as the type to linger after the kill. Aloy and Nil wash off in a nearby stream. And then he looks at Hani.

“You should learn to use a bow.”

“My eyesight is trash so it's useless,” Hani states. “I’d have better luck with a knife, but that risks the baby.”

“Better than death.”

Hani frowns at him. “Why do you care? Usually you do your thing then move on.”

“‘Usually’. You use that a lot. Have we met? Passing acquaintances in the night?”

“No. I’ve just heard of the things you do.”

He hums. Aloy comes back, wringing water out of her overshirt. She’s put on her spare, as the other wouldn’t dry for a while yet in the cold climate of the Sacred Lands in mid autumn. It makes Hani wonder how Nil’s nipples haven’t froze off yet.

“He,” she grimaces, “has a point. I would feel better if you carried some kind of weapon. A knife, at least, would give you some protection.”

“You’re about to squirrel me away for a year in the Embrace,” Hani points out. “Who am I going to be fighting with a knife? The Braves?”

Aloy presses her lips together. _ No one _, is the response and they both know it. No enemies are in the Embrace anymore. They’re gone because Aloy made sure they were all dead or ran, gasping and praying, into the ground.

“Here.”

Hani jumps, looking at the knife that’s is held out to her by the handle. She follows it up the arm and shoulder and neck to Nil’s face, blank as ever. “Uuuh.”

He tilts his head again, like a dog or confused large cat. “You aren’t afraid of me, but you are afraid of a knife.”

“_Should _I be afraid of you?”

“Most are.”

Hani shrugs. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m traveling with Aloy.”

Aloy makes a face. “What does that mean?”

“Babe, most of the places you go are alarming and confusing to the masses.”

“She has a point,” Nil agrees, mirthful. “You are very strange.”

Hani snorts. “Oh I know.” She sighs. “Fine, I’ll take the knife.”

She takes it, and finds it weighs…okay. It isn’t heavy, but it isn’t light either. The blade is smooth, curving near the top, and wickedly sharp. Definitely made for killing, and not just cutting open things. Nil seems to rock on his heels a little before asking, after she’s carefully stowed it away, “Would you like tips?”

“Ooookay, Nil!” Aloy breaks in, taking Hani around the shoulders to steer her _ away _ from the sociopath. “It was _ nice _ seeing you. We’ll be going now.”

“Aloy,” Hani hisses, “don’t be rude! He was being friendly!”

“He was going to give you tips on killing people!”

Hani rolls her eyes. She glances back at an almost _ dejected _looking Nil. “I’ll get those tips from you later, Nil! Bye, brosef!” She waves.

He perks up a little at this. He doesn’t wave back, but he does give a nod. “I will look forward to our paths crossing again


	20. Compassion

They travel across the Sacred Lands.

Aloy takes her past small rebuilt lodges and the hunting grounds, where Hani asks how the Nora handle the open borders between the Carja and Banuk. Not many traveled to the outer Sacred Lands which was the only open portion. Only those allowed by the Matriarchs or Aloy came into the Embrace. It was the compromise Aloy felt would best benefit everyone, though she hoped to one day have the Embrace open.

“You will,” Hani swears.

Cren, the groundskeeper, smirks. “You should know we are a stubborn bunch.”

“Oh, I know.” Hani assures. “But I think Aloy has you all beat by a mile.”

“Mhm,” he agrees. “And who are you to her? Not just anyone is escorted into the Embrace by the ‘Anointed’ herself. Envoy from the Carja?”

It's easy to tell he thinks the title humorous, that while the more devout Nora believe it he merely sees a human woman who’s had the strength to stand alone and make changes. And done it with some divine help. A daughter of All-Mother, certainly, but also still a human. Who hates being the ‘Anointed’.

“I’m her…” Hani trails, realizing neither had decided whether or not they would tell the Nora straight away or not they were married. And how to do so if they did.

And how did you explain the pregnancy? Yikes.

“She’s my mate,” Aloy explains. “And All-Mother called me to bring her here so they could meet.”

Cren nods, grinning. “If you’ve caught her eye, you must be a worthy catch.”

Hani coughs at this. “If anything, I’m just lucky. Aloy is… amazing.” She glances at the huntress, a little embarrassed. “The world wasn’t kind to her for a long time, but she stood against it and said ‘no. I won't be cruel.’ Not everyone would have reacted the same way she had. That’s what I admire most about Aloy. Her compassion. Her kindness. She won’t let the world change her, she changes the world.”

Aloy is staring at her but she can’t meet her wife’s eye. Her face must be brighter than the sun. Cren’s eyebrows are raised in delight. “Sounds like you admire her quite a bit.”

“I’m just a seamstress so, yes. It’s hard to not admire her.”

“Mhm.” He doubts she’s ‘just’ anything. Not ‘just’ anyone catches the huntress’s eye.

They leave the groundskeeper shortly after. Aloy hopes to reach the Brave’s lodge before nightfall, or the closest campfire.

“We won’t reach Mother’s Heart until after nightfall once we enter the Embrace if we leave from the lodge,” Aloy explains. “And I know Lansra will have… reservations about you.”

“Oh, she’ll hate my guts,” Hani agrees. “An outsider married to you, her beloved Anointed, _ and _ asked to enter All-Mother Mountain _ by _ the goddess herself? Not to mention the pregnancy. Bless Jezza for not being so salty all the time to balance everything out.”

“Yes.”

Aloy reaches out, taking her hand. Hani takes it, leaning closer as they walk.

The chilled air pinkens her cheeks, breeze pulling at loose hair and tugging it about, teasing. They come to the water's edge to pass from the hunting grounds back to the main path, where Aloy releases Hani’s hand to hop across. Hani watches her, steadies her pack on her shoulder, and jumps to the first log.

She throws her arms out to balance herself. Then hops to the next, kicks off immediately to reach the third. Takes a break to steady her rolling stomach.

Aloy watches, worry pressing her mouth thin but not speaking.

After the nausea passes, Hani hops across the last two logs before jumping onto the soft embankment. She wobbles and Aloy catches her around the middle, expression slack with relief she was safely on the other side.

There is a brief pause, where they hold gazes. Something miniscule shifts in Aloy’s expression, causing a nervous flutter in Hani’s chest.

For a wild moment she thinks Aloy will kiss her, and Hani would be delighted to be kissed.

“You are not ‘just’ a seamstress.” Aloy murmurs.

“I am,” Hani gently denies. “Everything I used to be is in the distant past.”

They move away from the damp embankment, soles of their boots damp but no less sturdy. A particularly harsh breeze blows through and Hannnah shivers, teeth chattering.

“Next merchant I see, I’m buying you heavier clothes,” Aloy decides. “Blood and skin thins when pregnant.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Hani huffs. “It’s just the windchill. A woman’s metabolism speeds up, so actually I’m hotter than usual.”

“That is correct.”

Hani jumps as GAIA’s voice, not at all used to it yet.

“However, to counteract, your production of sweat has increased, as has blood flow to your legs and arms. This is why many women feel ‘colder’ during pregnancy. You in particular must feel colder, as your body temperature was already high pre-pregnancy, which is likely due to your high muscle and fat retaining.”

Hani thinks of her Irish ancestry immediately. They had definitely lived through the potato famine, and all the British bullshit after. So yes, there was a reason for that.

“I’m mostly of Irish heritage.”

GAIA hums. “I do not have much on the subject, but I recall Samina once talking about a potato famine from the country with Elisabet?”

“Yeaaah.” Hani rubs the back of her neck. She felt achy lately, which might be from the traveling, but could also be the pregnancy. Probably both. “It was a shit show. Potatoes were blighted, so super inedible because they’d kill you, and most of Ireland was a one crop stop kind of place so when the potatoes were blighted everyone was screwed. Landlords kicked farmers out, tons of people died, those who survived either emigrated elsewhere or stuck it out and later retained weight like no one’s business. Which is why I think the Carja need to tone down the corn.”

“Naoto was very careful to make sure all seeds were clean of any sickness or disease, as did the other Alpha’s and their teams in their respective fields.” GAIA soothes. “It is unlikely for such an event to occur.”

“I’m still paranoid I’m going to give someone the common cold and wipe out half the world.”

“That is also unlikely,” GAIA says. “The embryos of the first humans were carefully curated to withstand all current to Zero Dawn’s construction and past strains of illness. It is more likely for you to become ill than those around you, as their immunity is also passed down genetically.”

“Which is another reason we’re heading to the Cradle.” Aloy joins in. “Gaia says you need these Flu and Tetnus ‘shots’.”

“Jesus Christ.” Hani rubs her cold cheeks. “I thought I was the smallpox blankets, instead you are.”

“While a grim decision on the part of the Americans, it is quite apt for your situation, no matter how unknowingly. I am surprised you have lived so long without becoming ill, actually.”

“I am a very clean person. And as a royal seamstress I got to use hot running water and soap.”

GAIA makes a noise of understanding, and Hani wishes she could ask who taught her that. What she’d seen of Elizabet didn’t lend the idea the woman made noises, that she always wanted her thoughts to be clear. Aloy was the same. Once or twice she’s hummed, but it’s been followed by a voicing of what she means.

“I shall speak with Eleuthia about prepping the Flu vaccine for when you arrive,” GAIA says. “The Tetanus must be administered between the later second trimester and third trimester.”

A spike of anxiety at those words shoot through Hani, but the AI blessedly says nothing.

“Thanks, Gaia.” Hani says instead, quieter than intended, weaker.

Aloy’s hand in hers squeezes, thumb running slowly across the back of her hand. The callous on the thumb against the softness of her hand sends a shiver across Hani’s spine, raising gooseflesh and a fine thread of heat in her stomach. She ignores it in favor of looking up at Aloy, who is looking back, expression, serious yet tender. She almost seems bothered.

“You are welcome, Hani,” GAIA responds before the Focus gives a chirp as a signal of the call ending.

They walk in silence, Hani allowing Aloy time to decide what she would say. Its strange to know Aloy is usually much more decisive, but with her is slow to decide, thinking on her words, choosing what order they are to go in for best impact.

“I’m not the paragon of compassion you think I am.”

“Huh?”

It's a startle. She had expected something comforting, that she and the baby would be okay, or that Aloy was going to lay out her plan for once they enter the Embrace. It takes Hani a moment to remember what she had said to the groundskeeper, her shying away from looking at Aloy in her embarrassed adoration of her.

It was one thing to adore a fictional character who would never know how you felt, another to adore a woman who was your wife and mother of your child and you hadn’t _ quite _ revealed the depth of your feelings. Aloy was the sun, and Hani her moon, unable to help but be pulled along in her bright chase across the lands, bringing light to truths long hidden or lost.

“I’m not.”

Hani stops walking. “Aloy.” She takes a breath. “Did you stop to help anyone who asked for it, no matter how they had treated you, whether they paid you in more than gratitude or not, even if it was far from your current objective?”

“That doesn’t—”

“It does make you compassionate.” Hani raises the hand she holds, grabbing the other as well. She cannot help but hold them gently, her own thumb running across strong knuckles, where little marks crisscross from accidents with wood and fire and more. Aloy’s mouth is parted just a little, looking damp and inviting in the late afternoon sun. “Compassion is the ability to have sympathetic pity and concern for the suffering of others. And in most cases, to help stop the suffering. Did you spare Olin, save Inatut, help Elida learn Atral’s fate?”

She had always debated asking, but felt it wrong. She hadn’t heard of Olin’s fate where she worked, or even around the market. She also knew asking would make her outsider status more obvious. So she had kept her mouth shut. Brightmarket was too far to travel without a damn good reason. And the Cut was really far, and probably too cold for even her.

“I did.”

“Then you are compassionate.” Hani kisses those knuckles, lingering as she speaks. “I don’t know why it’s hard for you to hear this from others, but it’s true. And it’s not something you should hate others looking up to you for. If anything, everyone _ should _ look to your example, for… _ everything _. You aren’t a paragon, that’s true, but you are a champion of the idea.” Hani chuckles a little. “You’re… asocial, easily irritable, and can be really focused. And I can keep listing your less stellar qualities if it makes hearing your best ones easier.”

“No,” the swallow is audible, visible even, “no, I got it. I get it.” Aloy closes her eyes. “I think I’ve gotten so used to people looking to me for everything, that my automatic response is to deny it.”

“Don’t. Just,” Hani reaches for a word, a description, “just own it. I know the Nora can get annoying in their blind devotion, the Carja with their backhanded awe, and I bet _ I’ll _ get annoying just from me being me, but it’s not your fault. You are a very good, kind, remarkable person and they don’t know how to handle it. And I’m a useless Disaster Bi, trademark symbol, married to a very cool and super pretty lady.”

“You aren’t useless.”

Hani isn’t sure if she wants to open that can of worms. So she’s doesn’t.

“Don’t change the subject.”

Aloy turns a little pinker under her windnipped cheeks and nose. She smiles shyly at Hani. “I can’t promise to not get annoyed at the Nora or Carja, but I can promise to not get annoyed with you.”

“Hah!” Hani cackles. “You say that _ now _. Wait until the baby starts screaming and I don’t want to change the diapers at three in the morning.”

“We’ll compromise.”

Hani laughs again. “I wish you luck with that. I am notoriously stubborn about agreeing to _ anything _involving compromise.”

She bounces onto her toes and presses a kiss to Aloy’s nose, grabs her pack’s straps, and takes off down the road. Aloy stands there, a little stunned, then, smile blooming into a grin, takes off after Hani.


	21. Varl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varl is Best Boi. I love all of the characters equally, but Varl was Ride of Die from the get go (as was Teb but he sadly can't fight with Aloy).

The fire has burned low come morning. Hani has tucked herself against Aloy, nose pressed to her collarbone. Her breath fans hot and damp across Aloy’s skin, deep and even. Aloy feels to be burning up under their blankets, Hani half draped across her. The haze of pre-dawn filters through the sturdy canvas.

“Hani?” She mumbles, blinking away the shroud of sleep. She lifts her head to better look at Hani. “Hani, it’s morning.”

The woman huffs, curls up tighter. She rubs her face against Aloy’s skin, grumbling. Aloy pokes her, gets a twitch in response, and drops her head back onto the pallet.

They weren’t moving until Hani woke up. Damn.

Aloy carefully frees herself from Hani’s reaching limbs, hips first and then upper body. She fully curls up under the layers of blankets over Aloy’s spot, as though it had the most heat.

It’s… cute.

Aloy clears her throat, focuses on dressing. She crawls out of the tent to greet the morning and go gather more wood. By the time she’s back, a merchant has set up.

“Exactly who I was hoping for,” Aloy says, throwing the branches on the fire. She’d find more brush after she got it back up enough. “Do you have anything warm and insulating? With fur lining, preferably.”

“Not anything that’s good for free-movement in hunting,” the merchant rubs his chin. “But I do have something. Will be a little big on you.”

“It’s not for me.”

As if on cue, the shifting of blankets can be heard in the tent and a whiny, “It’s so fuckin’ cold!” is heard. The merchant wrinkles her nose at the crass language. Fumbling and a bit more cursing later, Hani’s head pops out of the tent, dressed in her layers and wrapped in the heaviest blanket. She squints her eyes at the merchant.

“Hi. Do you have clothes? Like. Made of all fur?”

Aloy presses her lips together. “I thought you said it was just the windchill?”

“I was wrong.” Hani crawls out, staying wrapped in the boar blanket. “I hate you. So much. All your fault.”

“Of course.” Aloy agrees. She looks to the merchant. “Now, about that outfit?”

The merchant, amused and a little bemused, trades the tunic and pants for two hundred shards and a watcher lens. Which was actually a lot less than the original as Hani had argued it down from four hundred and fifty shards. She had tried to convince Aloy to let her pay, but the younger woman wouldn’t have it.

They are  _ much  _ bigger on Hani, which allows her to pull them on as a top layer. She does so right before the merchant and Aloy. She grumbles about how the baby better be well behaved after making her cold as she shuffles back into the tent, though the merchant doesn’t hear that. There's the thump of her body hitting the pallet and then quiet.

“She’ll likely sleep an hour more.” Aloy says to the bewildered merchant.

“She’s clearly never been here before.”

“The cold typically doesn’t bother her.” Aloy doesn’t explain further. “Thank you.”

Aloy spends the following hour collecting plants, ridgewood, and hunting a few machines for parts. When she’s back, Hani has broken down camp and is curled up at the fire, watching the blaze in a tired daze, leaning against their packs. Her hair is once again hidden under her red Carja scarf, likely to keep her ears warm. The merchant watches warily.

“Is she alright?”

“She,” Hani snaps, making him recoil, “will be fine.”

Hani stands, brushes off her pants, and grabs their bags. “Can we go to Mother’s Heart now? I’m really tired.”

“After you’ve eaten.”

“I already ate.” Hani frowns. “Did you?”

“Yes.”

Hani nods, holding Aloy’s pack out to her. “Okay. Then let's go.”

As they step onto the path, Hani pauses. She turns to the merchant and nods. “Sorry for snapping. Thanks for the clothes.”

They are silent. It isn’t the heavy quiet of when Hani was angry at Aloy, or their typical companionable quiet. Hani is extremely tired, but if they took striders they’d be even slower. Occasionally, Aloy sees Hani touch her stomach, the disquiet there clear.

They’ve almost reached the gate when Aloy finds the will to speak. “You don't have to have the child.” Aloy swallows, dreading a response. “Or we can wait until later.”

“No.” Hani shakes her head. “I’m scared is all. Not of the kid. Just…” She motions to the Main Embrace Gate. “I’ve always thought the Nora fascinating, but their racism is off the charts. They’ll probably think the kid isn’t yours.”

The idea makes Aloy’s blood pound with thunderous rage. She opens her mouth, a remark on her tongue on how they would accept the child, whether they liked it or not, but is cut off by an excited yell.

“ _ ALOY! _ ”

Aloy turns, and sees the Main Gate already opening, allowing a familiar and welcome face. Varl comes running up, pulling up short. Aloy cannot help her smile at the sight of her friend.

“You left so suddenly,” Varl says, “I didn’t have a chance to bid goodbye. Did you complete the task All-Mother sent you on?”

“Yes. And I have a lot of news.”

Hani stares at Varl, grinning. It's the first she smiled all morning, which is a good sign.

“I see.” Varl turns to Hani. “You came here with Aloy, so you must be an envoy?”

“Nope.” Hani shakes her head. She nearly holds her hand out, but changes her mind. “I’m Hani and I’m traveling with her as a, ah, uhm—” She looks to Aloy, realizing she’d need to do that the entire time she was here. Or most of it, probably.

Aloy leans in towards Varl and explains quietly, so others would not hear, “We’ll explain in time. But we must speak to the Matriarchs first. It’s important.”

When Aloy pulls back, Varl is much more serious. “Alright. I’ll take you to Mother’s Heart.”

He turns, and Hani’s delight grows when she sees the  _ Focus _ on his ear. She turns to look at Aloy, eyes wide. “You’ve told him?” She kept her voice low, but cannot hide her excitement.

“Some,” Aloy confirms. “Slowly. It's a lot to take in for him. But Varl is glad to know it.”

Hani bites her lip to try and tamp down her grin. She cannot. “Aloy, wife, love, I could kiss you.”

Varl chokes on a strangled little noise of shock and the pair realize they were close enough he could hear them. “Oh my god.” She covers her face as Aloy groans. “ _ Oh my god _ .”

He gives them a wide-eyed look and, once past the few stationed Braves, far enough to  _ not _ be heard, he asks, “Did All-Mother send you to her?”

Hani refuses to look at him, leaving Aloy to explain. “Yes.”

He looks between them, radically different and yet together. “This will be… interesting.”

“Mhm.” Hani nods, face still hidden. “Me and my big mouth. Worse than the Oseram.”

“You don’t argue for three days over a bolt.”

“Thank Brighid.”

“And we need you to not say anything until I’ve calmed Lansra down,” Aloy explains. “She’ll be the most angry about it.”

“If All-Mother thinks Hani a worthy mate for you, Lansra should not argue.” Varl shrugs. He directs the question at Hani. “Will you be staying in the Sacred Lands?”

“For… a bit.” Hani hedges. “All-Mother has an important task for me.”

“Okay.” Varl nods. “Okay. Then let's go.”


	22. Mother's Heart

They reach Mother’s Heart at sunfall. Hani hadn’t said mum on the walk, even at the inclines that made her gasp and need to slow down.

Twice Varl had recommended a strider be called, but both women declined. “It’ll make it worse,” Hani explained at his insistence. “The rocking motion makes me ill.”

“So you must suffer quietly.”

“It’s okay. I’ve gotten used to it.” Hani smiles. “I’m used to the travel, it’s my body isn’t used to the cold  _ and  _ the travel.”

When they reach the final bridge, and Hani can see the gate of Mother’s Heart, hear the sounds and smell the cooking food, she tears up.

“Aloy,” her voice cracks. “It’s beautiful. It’s beautiful and loud and I already know I’m gonna feel claustrophobic and hate it. I love it.”

“You’ve loved everything I’ve shown you,” Aloy reminds with a bit of a laugh. “And called it all beautiful.”

“And I’ve meant it every time.” She tears up, wiping them away as soon as they form. “Shit. My emotions are everywhere.”

Varl watches on. “Are you always like this?”

“No.” She sniffles. “It’s  _ her _ fault. One hundred percent. And Gaia’s.”

“You know All-Mother’s name?”

“Yes. And more.” Hani wipes her eyes and sniffles harder. “Oh my god we need to talk about something not related to mothers or I’m gonna start sobbing. Aloy, how could you do this?”

“I did not know. So I can’t be fully blamed.”

“I will anyway.”

Aloy sighs. She gives Varl a long suffering look. “If you could lead the way while I help her calm down. Crying won’t endear her to the Matriarchs.”

“Actually I think crying about how beautiful the Sacred Lands are will help,” Varl grins. “An outsider so in love with the land she was chosen by All-Mother herself to marry the Anointed? It’s very believable.”

“You’re right,” Aloy jokes, though the pull at the edge of her mouth denotes displeasure at the idea. “That’s exactly what I’ll tell them.”

“You both are meanies,” Hani growls, weakly and without heat. “Laughing at me in my time of need.”

“I’m not wrong,” Varl states.

“You aren’t,” both women agree.

Hani gets herself under control as they close in on the gate. Briefly, Aloy brushes against her, casual to anyone who looked, the brush of her fingers along Hani’s thin skin soothing to her nerves. The Braves exchange looks, glancing at Hani, then Varl says, “Open the Gate. We must see the High Matriarchs immediately.”

The two jump to it, opening the gate and allowing them access.

Warmth, within instead of without, is what Hani feels first. She takes in the overwhelming sight of so many people. Not as many as in the market, certainly, but the difference was the  _ eyes _ . Everyone looked at them, attempting at subtly and most succeeding. Children failed, and wow. There were so many toddlers.

Hani resists reaching for her growing stomach, hidden by the layers and layers she wore to stave off the cold. Her skin felt so papery and thin now, weak even. It wouldn’t do to give away her pregnancy to these people  _ before  _ whatever Aloy and her planned.

Which they really needed to do. So far Hani had let Aloy lead, but this was something Hani had a right to have a voice in.

Hani follows Aloy up the path, Varl behind her. The paths are wide, roads tamped down by a millennia of feet, with the occasional logs set down in the case of heavy rainfall. Huts and small homes recently reconstructed or fixed branch off along smaller, equally well trodden paths. They pass a firepit where a boar is slowly turned on its spit. The smell of roasting ham makes her mouth water, sweet and succulent, made all the better by its juicy fat.

She looks away when she realizes she’s staring. She’s grinning too, so hard her cheeks ache. She must looked flushed, fervent to see the entirety of Mother’s Heart.

She turns her eyes to the rest of the settlement, to the adults gathered around a long table, talking and sharing drinks. She couldn’t smell the sourness of Scrappersap, or the sugar of wine, and thinks the drink might come from the well she sees hidden around the corner, or even the snow laden across the ground, across securely thatched roofs, bowing the branches of beautiful trees.

The music is heavy in her breast. She does not know the beat, and she’s always had two left feet, but something about it makes her giddy. The way there is only drum makes her blood sing. Makes her want to go streaking under the full moon, spinning and laughing, arms thrown high in languid delight, as though she was once more back in her time.

She wouldn’t hate raising the baby here, if the Nora had treated Aloy better and wouldn’t treat the child as though the blessed baby Jesus. She would love to raise them among the wild, but with plenty of people to learn from, to look to for help and guidance.

Communal raising was such a lovely concept.

Hani  _ really _ wishes she could raise the baby communally.

Fuck. They needed to talk about how they were going to raise the baby. While traveling, yes, but who handled what? The baby couldn’t grow up illiterate, and had to know a lot about handling themselves. There was so much history to teach her and—

Oh.

She looks at the back of Aloy’s head, golden and fiery and gorgeous. A little girl with Aloy’s hair, her freckles, Hani’s eyes and pale skin and rounded cheeks. She’d be beautiful.

Hani thinks Noemi would be a fantastic name, in honor of one of her bestest friends.

“Hani, we’re almost there.”

Aloy partially turns, glancing at her. Hani’s expression must not be the same rapturous expression it had been because she falters, asks, “Are you okay?”

“I hope—” Hani nearly says “we have a little girl” but manages to bite her tongue. That would have been hard to explain when no one even knew they were married besides Varl. “I hope the Matriarchs like me.”

“Teersa will,” Varl says. “She loves everyone as her own. Jezza may take a while to warm up to you. Lansra…”

“Will never like me.” Hani isn’t expecting her to. In fact, she expects to butt heads with the elderly woman quite a lot. They didn’t share many views, as far as Hani knew. The idea of sharing views with Lansra was terrifying, actually. “From what I know of her, I am not surprised. Or eager to meet her.”

The Matriarch Lodge is huge, looming in a way that is comforting more than worrisome. From the smokestack breaching out of the center, heavy plumes of smoke drift and curl out into the dense sky, seeming to meld into the gray clouds that are weighed with snow. The porch and roof are covered in hanging artwork, intricate weavework made by hand. She is reminded of the Seeker symbol on Aloy’s pouch, the carefully crafted circles and loops and lines.

She’d love to learn their stitches, wants to make clothes for the baby with embroidery of beautiful Nora  _ and  _ Carja symbols on them, but feels it would be rude to ask the Matriarchs. She has no right as an outsider. And her embroidery had never been all that great anyway.

The idea of traveling to the Cut to purchase dyed Banuk fabric crosses her mind, but the travel would be long with lots of climbing and she’s never had upper body strength.

The door is open, letting the blazing heat within out. There are several Matriarchs within, but Hani cannot see a High Matriarch in sight from where she’s stopped at the bottom step.

Varl stands by her, two feet away. Aloy does not hesitate like them, continuing up the steps, always flying in the face of tradition where it does not suit her or her needs.

“High Matriarch Teersa?” Aloy calls, tone carrying, commanding, soft with favor.

A murmur rustles through the grandmothers, then a sound of displeasure. And Lansra’s voice to accompany it.

“Anointed! We did not expect your glorious return so soon. Did you complete the mission All-Mother sent you on?”

“I will explain in time, Lansra. I have to speak with all three of you.”

Their voices come closer, and Hani can feel the crowd gathering behind them. Her breath comes shallow, tasting bitter. She should chew on some mint and Valley’s Blush, but fears it would give her away. So she stands there, back to the gathering Nora, watching Aloy and Lansra come out. Aloy looks as bitter as Hani’s mouth tastes at speaking to Lansra first.

“Teersa has gone to the Mountain to pray for your safe journey,” Lansra explains in a much more awed tone now that they had exited the lodge meant only for grandmothers. “Which, as always, has worked. We are blessed by your return. Teersa will be back before long.”

Jezza comes from behind the two, quickly finding her spot beside Lansra. Aloy walks down the steps, brushing her hand along Hani’s, a silent  _ follow me _ in the touch. Hani backs away, which makes room in the curious crowd. Varl is further away, a respectable distance from the High Matriarchs when not in conversation. She finds Aloy close by her, elbows brushing. In a nervous gesture she’s only done when terrified, Hani presses her hands against her stomach, just over the growing round, careful to not press down as she normally would.

The elder women stand, warily watching Hani. She nearly curls in on herself, realizing she must look extremely strange in so many layers, hair hidden by her scarf so her ears weren’t so wind-nipped.

“Who is this?”

“This is Hani. All-Mother sent me to find her.”

Hani bows her head with a smile, hands still pressed against her middle, and gives a small tip at the waist in respect. “A pleasure to meet you two. I have heard many good things.”

She’s tempted to pull the scarf back, to fix her hair thats falling in her face, but her ears have always been the most sensitive part of her and the braids and beads would be telling to everyone. Aloy wanted to tell the Matriarchs first, and she would.

Lansra makes a sound of disgust. Hani’s fingers curl against her stomach, but she keeps her expression pleasantly neutral, smile afixed. She had worked in retail and food service for years before coming here. She’d be fine.

“The Goddess knows best. We can only hope to understand her decisions.” Jezza says while Lansra is too bitter to find words. Jezza holds out an arm to them. “Come, we shall talk in your lodge, Aloy.”

_ Your lodge? _ Hani throws a look at Aloy, who grimaces but doesn’t speak. They follow the Matriarchs, leaving the crowd behind. Varl follows as well, still bringing up the back. Hani casually slows down, and whispers, “Aloy has a lodge? Why?”

Varl keeps pace with her easily. “The Matriarchs felt it best to give Aloy her own place to commune with All-Mother in peace. It isn’t very big and Aloy rarely comes here anyway.”

Hani nods. She thinks about her time, how she had lived alone with only Spot for company. She had gone out to visit people, to not be known as the local shut-in, but still kept mostly to herself even among friends. Aloy did the same, it sounded like. Just on a more extreme scale, and was able to avoid the people who had scorned her her entire life.

Varl is right that the lodge in question is small, smaller than even the one the children running in the Proving had been in. There is a single main room, with a bed large enough to fit three average sized adults. A small room branches off with a closed door, and Hani bets it's a built in outhouse. In the center is a fire pit, with pre-prepped logs. The stale stench of blaze tingles the nose, and Hani inhales sharply so she doesn’t sneeze.

She does anyway, and covers her burning face at the looks Jezza and Lansra give her. “I’m sorry. The smell of blaze has always made me sneezy.”

Behind her Varl coughs, covering a laugh. “I will show myself out, Matriarchs.”

“Thank you,” Lansra commends. “Please be sure to send Teersa to us, Varl.”

It’s awkward to be standing there, all watching each other, or pointedly  _ not _ watching each other. Hani offers to put her and Aloy’s packs down, which Aloy thankfully allows her to do. Then she grabs the flint she has and lights the fire before Aloy can, feeding it some of the kindling kept just to the side of the fire, out of its hungry reach.

Then she goes back to standing, rocking on her heels nervously, glancing around the sparse lodge. It needed chairs, if she was going to be here for any amount of time. She’d need to see about what she could do to carry her weight, too, because whether or not she was ‘the Anointed’s mate’ or not, Hani had zero intention of sitting on her ass. She could gather, she could sew, she had plenty of stories to tell, and she could cook well enough.

She was a homebody, a near complete opposite to Aloy’s wandering heart.

The door opening is a blessing, revealing a delighted Teersa. Her arms are already open, moving to pull Aloy into a hug with a gentle cry of the woman’s name. It’s like watching a grandmother hugging her grandchild.

Hani misses her own grandmother fiercely, and hopes she doesn’t mourn her only grandchild too much. If this is real and not a dream.

Hani closes the door as Teersa puts Aloy at arms length, looking her over, checking for any changes. Then she puts her old, chilly hands to Aloy’s cheeks, as if in reverence but quieter, sweeter. “You grow more each time I see you, Aloy.”

Aloy’s smile is genuine. “Thank you, Teersa.”

Teersa turns to Hani next, beckoning her close. “Come, come, child. Varl has told me Aloy was sent by the Goddess to find you?”

“Y, yes, ma’am. I mean, Matriarch Teersa.”

Lansra and Jezza each make a face, one more genuinely angry than the other, while Teersa chuckles. Hani comes closer to Teersa, close enough she can look her over as she had Aloy.

“You must be quite cold,” Teersa notes. “Coming from Meridian.”

“Just a bit.” Hani glances at Aloy. “I come from even further, though. Where there is snow in winter. The wind is less harsh.”

Teersa nods. She looks Hani over a bit more then finally steps back, asking, “Do you know why the Goddess would request you?”

Hani swallows, glances at Aloy. She licks her lips. “Well…” She reaches up to pull back her scarf, shakes her head to fully free her hair, and hears a trio of sharp intakes at the sight of the intricate braids and beads. “Aloy said…”

“You have made the outlander your mate?” Lansra hisses in shocked anger. “An  _ outlander _ ! That cannot be the Goddess’s will!”

“It is!” Aloy snaps, coming quickly to Hani’s side and defense. “All-Mother sensed her, that we were of a good match, and sent me back to Meridian for her.”

Lansra stands straighter. “I do not believe this.”

“I do.” Teersa looks Hani over. “The Goddess has spoken, Lansra. We  _ heard _ the Goddess speak to Aloy, several times, and has even spoken to us.”

“She would  _ never _ say this!”

Jezza joins in. “If the Goddess truly wills it, we must not question her.”

“We shall pray to her in the morning,” Teersa suggests. “That shall placate any arguments, if the Goddess is willing to speak.”

Lansra, finding she is outnumbered by her fellow Matriarchs, backs down. Still angry, certainly, but unable to argue. And if the Goddess does speak with them? Well, Lansra would truly have to shut up then.

“Aloy,” Teersa says, “we shall leave you two to settle in. If you have need of anything, please come find me.”

The three elderly women leave. Aloy shows them to the door, while Hani stands there, hands still pressed to her stomach. But now to hide her trembling.

Once the door has shut and been firmly latched, Hani crumbles to the ground. She pulls her knees as close as able, pressing her forehead to them. She takes a deep inhale, and says, “Gaia has talked to them?”

The room is quiet save the crackle of the fire and the creak of boards under foot. Aloy never made noise unless she wished to, unless she wanted to be tracked. Hani could hear her moving their packs, taking out blankets and needed items. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I needed the boarders open. The Nora are dying.” Aloy explains. “And Gaia agreed it would help them to allow others into and out of the outer Sacred Lands.”

Hani lifts her head, watching Aloy lay out their blankets. “Is there a way to keep the Nora from dying out?”

“Marrying from outside the tribe to stop intermarrying,” Aloy says. “And families producing more than one or two children. But Minerva, Poseidon, and Artemis can’t produce more animals or plants to help because of the amount of decimated land still being too much.”

Hani frowns. “But the machines are terra-formers. Is that not helping?”

“It is. But not fast enough.”

Hani frowns harder. “I’ll figure something out.”

She had never been the best problem solver, but she couldn’t let these people die out. So she would help, even if it meant figuring out how to bring back larger animals.

Wait.

Could she do that? Didn’t the humans need to be taught how to use the embryos? Could GAIA teach her?

“You don’t have to.” Aloy is looking at her peculiarly. “You owe them nothing.”

“Neither do you, Aloy. But you still come back and help them. Time and again. And I can’t leave people in need.” Hani sighs. “I can’t sit by and watch people suffer.”

They are silent. Aloy finishes dressing the bed and Hani sheds her layers as the heat of the fire warms her up. She plays with her scarf.

“You say you aren’t compassionate.”

Hani looks across the fire at Aloy, fiddling with Hani’s pouch of mint and Valley’s Blush.

“But I think you are much more compassionate than you know. You have a mother’s heart.”

Hani isn’t sure how to respond. She finds herself speechless.

And so deeply, deeply in love with this woman.


	23. GAIA

The wind isn’t as sharp the following day. Hani finds herself in the clothes she had gotten from the merchant the day before and only them, scarf back around her head. This time more to hide her status than to keep her ears warm.

The sun is yet to rise when Aloy wakes her, shaking her gently. She grumbles her way into coherence, glaring with only one eye squinted open.

“What a terrible wife you are,” Hani whines, rolling over, grasping at Aloy’s hands. “Come back to bed. It’s  _ cold _ .”

“It will stay cold,” Aloy agrees, pulling away and off the bed, “until you are up and moving around.”

“Ugh.” Hani huffs, throwing her arm over her eyes. “I can’t believe the  _ Goddess _ thought us a good match.”

Aloy huffs out a laugh. “What was she thinking?”

“That I have good child bearing hips, probably.”

“I have never thought that,” Gaia’s voice filters through, causing both women to startle, Hani even making a noise of shock. “While admittedly you do have the proportions, health and medical history also matters a great deal about whether or not a person with a uterus may be able to birth children.”

“Dagda,” Hani gasps, hand to her erratic heart. In a kinder tone, a bit wry and very tired, she explains, “I was kidding, Gaia. It was a joke from a movie I watched as a kid. Which reminds me…”

Hani rolls out of bed with a yawn and full body stretch, back popping in places and spine aching happily, sternum bursting with sweet stretch pain. When she’s finished, she finishes,

“Did Samina also save movies? Or were they deemed not important?”

“Samina Ebadji saved quite a large amount of film, both of the educational and entertainment variety. While it was lost with Apollo, there was one included in the Kindergarten levels of education as a form of entertainment for the children;  _ Snow White and the Seven Dwarves _ .”

“So there might be a copy of the very delightful  _ Labyrinth  _ out there?”

“While I am unfamiliar with the work, yes. There is the plausibility.”

Hani laughs, pulling on her heavy, warm tunic. “If we find Apollo, we are watching  _ Labyrinth _ . You won’t get  _ any  _ of the references but it’ll be worth it.”

“I’m kind of terrified to find out what ‘ _ Labyrinth _ ’ is,” Aloy states. She has finished dressing and is pulling out food for them to eat.

Hani wouldn’t say it, but she would love to see if the Nora eat breakfast and lunch together in big groups as well and not just dinner. They must, because the first humans would have probably always eaten as a unit while in the Cradle, and attempted to do so as adults forced to live in the wild.

“ _ Labyrinth _ , my love, is music, glitter, goblin puppets, and very,  _ very _ tight pants.”

Aloy gives her an unimpressed look, holding out Hani’s share of jerky, bread, and fruit.

“That worries me.”

“It shouldn’t. Much.”

She laughs, joining Aloy by the low fire.

They fall into silence, quietly chewing. Hani feels bad for kicking GAIA out of the conversation so abruptly. She’d always been bad at phone calls because she couldn’t see the person’s face. And it was easy for her to forget she was  _ on _ a call, especially a shared one.

“Gaia?” Hani gives a weak smile, nervous, toying with the berries in her palm. “I was thinking, last night, maybe I could help with bringing in larger animal life? Game, mostly. But some predators to keep things balanced. It would help the Nora and I know it's what was intended to happen if Apollo hadn’t been deleted. Could we do that?”

“There is a possibility. It is very hands-on and time consuming. You will have to ensure the animals survive long enough to procreate and expand their numbers. The process would take years.”

Hani’s heart sinks a little. They wouldn’t stay in the Embrace for years. Aloy came back for Rost and because GAIA was housed in the Cradle while PRIME was rebuilt. Aloy was clear that they’d leave soon as the baby and her were ready enough.

“Oh. I see.”

She tries to hide her disappointment. She should have known already that it wouldn’t be so easy. Life never was, and the Alphas could only ensure so much went smoothly.

“When the baby is older, we can try.” Hani suggests, though knows it might never happen.

“I look forward to it.”

GAIA sounds ebullient, bright as a star and clear as a bell. It leaves Hani silent in want.

It’s weird having wants. She had needs, but not wants. Now she wants to be here, with Aloy, and wants to help GAIA further the world, to bring more animals back. She wants to find APOLLO and wants to raise the baby with Aloy.

“So do I.” Hani throws the last of the blueberries in her mouth, feels the burst of the ripe tartness against her tongue, and chews. “When we find APOLLO, we can start making plans.”


	24. Mother’s Watch

Aloy makes sure they arrive at Mother’s Watch right after dawn has fully come. The journey is an easy one for Aloy, but for Hani she struggles. She is eager to get there, but tired. So very, very tired.

They reach Mother’s Watch as the sun turns the sky blood orange, the flush of dawn easing into West where night has gone. The gates have been opened, smoke curls up into the air from small homes and large lodges. Like Hani had wondered about, people are eating breakfast together. Porridge, mostly, with winter foods mixed in, and hard meat. Older children sit together at tables in clusters, while smaller ones eat with their parents. The Braves stationed within Mother’s Watch are already heading out for the day, talking amongst themselves.

All go quiet when they see Aloy and Hani coming up the road, bowing their heads in respect to Aloy with quiet “Anointed”s thrown her way. Aloy’s hands clench and uncurl uncomfortably, hating that almost no one listened to her.

“Hey,” Hani says, reaching out to take Aloy’s hand. She startles, looking at her with a brief visage of disgust before it fell into one of discomfort. “Sometimes overly religious people are weird. And no matter what you say, they’ll still worship the ground you walk on. I hate to say it, but you will have to ignore them.”

“Ignoring them won’t make them stop.” Aloy growls, steps faster.

Hani doesn’t attempt to keep up, letting go of Aloy’s hand. She watches her wife go, following at a more sedate pace. Hani couldn’t go faster even if she wanted to, anyway. Until this constant tiredness and queasiness passed, she was stuck going slow.

But it gave Aloy time to cool off, which Hani saw as a big upside.

Aloy slows down, stopping altogether to let Hani catch up. “I don’t know why they can’t just see me as a person. I’m the same as them.”

“You are.”

“Then why won’t they listen?”

Hani debates telling her the same thing again, but knows it wouldn’t be fair. “They don’t listen because they don’t want to. You survived the Proving massacre, Aloy, and became a Seeker to find the truth. That alone made them admire you. Then you entered into a place even the Matriarchs couldn’t go after a devastating attack and loss, after a voice they think is All-Mother spoke to you. To them, you are their goddess’s daughter, just like the Carja thinks Avad the speaker of the sun.” Hani shrugs. “You won’t change their mind, no matter how often you tell them to stop calling you the Anointed. I’m sorry, but you are their Jesus.”

Aloy exhales her frustration. “I’d rather not be.”

“I know.”

There is a lesser Matriarch waiting outside of All-Mother Mountain, working on what looks to be a hanging idol. She stands when she realizes it is Aloy coming up the path, Hani behind her.

“Anointed,” the Matriarch greets. “A beautiful morning has blessed us.”

“Uh, yeah.” Aloy nods. “The High Matriarchs and I are to speak with the Goddess. It’s important.”

“I would be honored if you would join me as I worked on an offering to the Goddess,” the Matriarch offers a spot on the bench. She glances at Hani. “Both of you.”

“I’m fine.” Aloy says, and when Hani goes to decline as well gives her A Look™. Sheepishly, Hani sits.

The three are stuck in an awkward silence. The Matriarch keeps a pretty cool neutral expression that is somehow also kind, carefully pulling the leather taunt in the hoop as she worked. Hani attempts to watch without being obvious and is clearly failing because, eventually, the Matriarch speaks.

“You have questions. You may ask them.”

Unable to help herself, the question at the top spills forth, “How do you keep the leather from ripping?”

A tiny corner of the grandmother’s mouth curls up. “The leather is kept damp as it is easier to work with, and the thread is looser than it appears. Once the leather dries, it shrinks, thus the thread is pulled taunt.”

Hani nods, leaning closer to watch. “I’m a seamstress—a Stitcher—back in Meridian. I’ve always wanted to work with leather, but the Carja are really fond of silks and cotton instead, and leather is expensive unless you make it yourself.” She looks up, meeting the Matriarch’s gaze on accident. “Is there anyone I could speak to here about learning to work with leather?”

The Matriarch slowly pulls back a little, as if surprised by the sudden proximity of the outlander. She speaks after a pregnant pause, stating, “You are likely to find a teacher in either Teb, who has become an envoy to the Carja, or in Olara, who lives in Mother’s Cradle.”

Hani sits up. “Olara is a Stitcher?”

“Yes…?”

“I’ll be sure to talk to her, then.”

Hani continues watching the Matriarch work, the awkward silence smoothed out into something far more tranquil, lenient even. Aloy watches them, casting a periodic look down the path in search of the High Matriarchs.

They come walking up the path as the Matriarch finishes her work, standing. She gives Hani a kind smile. “I hope to see more of you, child.”

She departs down the way with a deferential nod to the High Matriarchs, who return the gesture. Hani is grinning widely when the elderly women join them. “Aloy, I think she liked me!”

“Most seem to,” Aloy agrees. “You are likable.”

“Enough chit chat,” Lansra grumbles. “Let us see if the Goddess truly chose this outlander.”

“Alright.” Hani stands to follow them and Lansra levels a vile glare her way.

“You are not welcome inside, outlander.”

Hani purses her lips as Aloy straightens. “She is welcome inside, Lansra.”

“I must concur with Lansra on this, Teersa,” Jezza states. “Until we know for certain, she should wait outside. I am sure the Goddess will be prompt with us.”

Teersa is terrible at hiding her feelings on the matter, but, outvoted, concedes. “Very well. Hani you must wait here until one of us returns for you.”

“You can’t be serious,” Aloy argues. “I told you the Goddess wants to see her.”

Lansra is gearing up to argue the point when Hani speaks up, already sat back down. “It’s fine. I’m not in a hurry. We know the truth, Aloy, and they will too in a moment. What’s five more minutes?”

“I am glad you understand.” Teersa pats Hani’s hands, ever calm. “I shall return for you promptly, child.”

Aloy is still angry, but Hani shrugs at the woman’s look of irritation. “It’s fine.  _ I’m _ fine. Go. I’ll wait out here.” Hani raises her eyebrows in what she hopes translates to “The baby won’t die of the cold in five minutes so calm down and go fool that mean old coot so we can get it checked up on.”

Which wow. Really need to discuss how they’ll be explaining the whole baby thing. Gift from the Goddess angle? Only thing that sounds like it would work.

Aloy huffs. “I will be right back. Do not move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, dear.”

“I,” Aloy pauses, turning a little pink. Then she follows the Matriarchs into the Cradle.

Shortly after, it begins to snow.


	25. All-Mother Mountain

Hani would give her left boob to see how the entire thing went down. Instead she just gets the aftermath with a joyful Teersa, who hugs her and kisses her cheek like her own grandmother would, wet and sticky and smelling of talcum powder despite it no longer existing.

“Come, come,” Teersa urges her inside, brushing away the snow on her shoulders. “The Goddess wishes to meet you.”

_ Like I didn’t already know that? _

Hani lets the elderly woman lead her in, down the paths to the Cradle’s door. The game really didn’t do justice in just how  _ huge _ everything is. The corridors tower above with stalagmites and stalactites reaching pointy giant fingers everywhere, walkways covered in candles and wax built up over centuries. It smells of burned out wicks and decades of little use. It is old and beautiful, it smells like  _ comfort _ .

The entrance to the Cradle is… staggering. Hani stares, taking in all the details and feeling she could never really see everything there is to see. 

And there is GAIA, projected by the little scanner above the door to look larger than life in a gorgeous verdant dress with a Grecian cut, skin as smooth and dark as her memory dictated, eyes fathomless yet impossibly tender with a melancholy built from a thousand years alone.

Hani would ask about CYAN when they were alone.

Jezza and Lansra are bowed, though Hani bets anything they had started off prostrate on the ground the second GAIA appeared. Aloy is quick to cross the room to Hani, brushing off what little flecks of snow remain, even from her hair. Hani waves her off, embarrassed to be fussed over. If anything, it should be the other way around.

“Hani.”

The woman turns, realizing she was going to need to put on a show. She settles her hands over her sternum and gives a bow, keeping her head low once she’s straightened. “All-Mother, I heard your call and came. I humbly come before you.”

“Raise your head and come close. Let me see you properly.”

Hani does as asked, letting GAIA scrutinize her. “Do you know why I called you here, Hani?”

“Uh,” the woman fumbles for a response, “be-because you chose me to be Aloy’s mate?”

GAIA smiles, holding out a hand. “That is one reason. I saw the potential between you two, both very different in upbringing and lifestyle, and yet alike in emotion. I have watched your journey from Meridian to here, arguments and misunderstandings and yet you both chose to talk and grow, to bridge the gaps created. Two halves made whole. I also have a gift for both of you.”

The hiss of the doors opening is heard, along with the gasps of the Matriarchs.

“Come in so I may bestow it upon you both.”

Aloy comes up beside Hani, holding out her hand. Hani takes it, letting the woman pull her up onto the platform and then into the Cradle.

Behind them, the door closed with a hiss, and GAIA’s image disappeared.


	26. Cradle and All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame the fic Anthropotheism by penhaligon for ELEUTHIA being in this fic. And being so freaking sweet. They just want to see the world.
> 
> Also lots of technical jargon bcs BABIES and I asked several nurse friends and did a lot of research. Be proud, its not all by the seat of my pants!

The Eleuthia-9 facility is cleaner than Hani expects. Lights have been repaired, the decayed servitors have been removed. The disturbing paintings remain, but something tells Hani this was intentional. The rooms for taking care of the children have been cleaned and straightened up.

She nearly has a heart attack when a servitor, fully automated and with its hologram projection working, comes out of a room to greet them. She yelps, jumping backwards, and Aloy is _ definitely _ silently laughing at her.

The servitor, with its overlay of an unassuming black woman dressed in scrubs, hair up in a bun, motions to a nearby door and heads for it.

Hani stays where she is. She’s always been a bit wary of people shaped robots, blame the _ Terminator _franchise. “She wants us to follow?”

“Yes. Eleuthia asked to help.”

“That’s… Eleuthia?”

Aloy nods. “Hades, Hephaestus, and Poseidon were the only malevolent rogue AIs. I used the master override, purging them of their abilities, and Gaia took them back under control.”

“Oh.”

Hani looks in the direction ELEUTHIA went. After another brief pause, she follows the AI, Aloy keeping pace.

She’s surprised to find a medical bed set up, with stirrups, a slightly futuristic sonogram beside it. On the little metal tray is a vial and needle as well as a container of goopy liquid, a spray bottle, and a roll of bandage. ELEUTHIA turns to them from where it was fussing with the items, as if a nervous tick.

“Hello.”

The AI’s voice is extremely metallic, but there is an attempt at a feminine accent, soft and high, almost sweet. For some reason, when Hani imagined ELEUTHIA with a voice, she imagined Linda Hamilton or Jessica Lange, heavy and smokey. But this, oddly, made sense too.

“I am pleased to meet you, Hani.” She smiles, matching Hani’s own wide grins more than the stilted ones most people gave, a product of their ancestors being raised by servitors with extremely limited facial expressions. “I shall administer a basic full physical exam first before going into prenatal care. If you could strip to your basic underclothes, I shall take your weight, height, and blood pressure. We currently do not have access to a proper mammography, so I shall have you do a test with your hands. After, I will need you to strip from the waist down and sit back with your legs in the stirrups, I shall perform an inspection of your pelvic region prior to the ultrasound.”

The clinical way ELEUTHIA talks settles any rising nerves. Hani glances at Aloy, who is listening to everything ELEUTHIA says very intently. This was something new to Aloy, but Hani had had physical exams prior to coming here throughout her entire life, and even had a pelvic and breast exam a year before she’d arrived. It was a reminder of just how much everyone had lost thanks to Ted goddamn motherfucking bitch ass Faro.

“Alright.”

Hani strips to her short sleeved shirt and underwear. She follows ELEUTHIA to a scale built into the floor. ELEUTHIA reads the weight, nods, and asks her to sit on the bed. She almost feels like a child again, wearing the little arm vest that takes her blood pressure, having ELEUTHIA test her breathing and check her ears and eyes. The AI is quick and efficient, answering all of Aloy’s questions about how every instrument worked and why Hani’s senses needed to be checked as the AI went through it’s tasks. Which, to be frank, was to make sure she was healthy and able to have a child.

“How do you have access to all this information?” Hani asks, as ELEUTHIA preps to give her the Flu shot.

“The basic physical was administered to Brood-1 once a year, though I am to understand from the logs left by the servitors it fell to the wayside as the children became teens and then adults, due to the Brood’s… displeasure with their situation. The pregnancy exam was in my own files, as I am the AI tasked with the care of humans and ensuring their survival. My creator was very adamant it be stored within my databanks, and not within Apollo’s.” ELEUTHIA’s voice drops, weak and clearly sad. “I am glad to have the information, though I wish I was able to share it with Apollo and other humans.”

“Oh.”

Hani reaches out, patting ELEUTHIA awkwardly on the arm. The AI gives her a brilliant smile.

“It pleases me to be able to share it with Aloy and you. And make sure your pregnancy has no issues.” Then, without hesitation, it sticks the needle in Hani’s arm. The woman jumps with a yelp but it’s already done, virus injected and left to percolate her system. Aloy looks shocked as Hani presses her thumb to the little bead of blood that had welled up. The AI looks terribly upset, needle set aside and already grabbing the gauze to put against Hani’s wound. “Forgive me. There was a 99 percent chance you would tense up if I forewarned you of the injection and so chose to do so without warning.”

“It’s… fine.” Hani grumbles. She was upset, but also it was effective. She hadn’t tensed until after it was said and done. Aloy looks more upset than she, even. “Not like I had a hand to crush.”

ELEUTHIA’s eyebrows go up. “You are strong enough to crush bones? My data says that humans do not typically have such herculean strength unless under hysterical situations.”

“It’s a figure of speech,” Hani laughs. “Only superheroes are that strong, and I don’t think they exist.” Her eyes wander to Aloy, heart fluttering. “Ones with laser vision or super speed, anyway.”

“Oh.” ELEUTHIA giggles, following Hani’s line of sight. “You are very taken with her.”

Hani turns red, looking away from Aloy who seemed just as shy.

“Yes.” Hani clears her throat. “Uh, I don’t remember how to check for tumors?”

ELEUTHIA perks. “Of course! I can tell you.”

ELEUTHIA goes through the motions of showing Hani how to check her breasts, which is a little embarrassing to do. There’s nothing wrong, which Hani isn’t surprised by. There was no history of breast cancer in either side of her family. It was just… the act of checking her boobs and having to be shown how to.

“Why do all of these things?” Aloy asks. “I know it's to make sure she is healthy and also safe to have a child, but I’ve never heard of this being done before. Gaia said to bring her here. Is it because she’s an Old One?”

“Just because no pregnancies you have heard of have had their complications talked about publically, does not mean they do not exist.” ELEUTHIA explains with a critical, even _ harsh _, tone of voice, checking the stirrups and adjusting the sonography machine. “Plenty of women have high blood pressure during the pregnancy, or the newborn is born upside down or with the umbilical cord around its neck, risking the newborn’s and mother’s life. Hani’s weight, if it was excessive enough, could also be a risk to her and the fetus. Being an ‘Old One’ has nothing to do with this. I imagine quite a few children and mothers have died over the last thousand years due to a certain subhuman's incompetence.”

Hani can’t stop her laugh at the description of Ted Faro. ELEUTHIA seems chagrined at her word choice and tone, but doesn’t apologize.

Instead she motions to the bed. “If you could strip, I shall perform the pelvic exam and then ultrasound.”

Hani does so, hopping onto the bed but not yet leaning back into position. She glances at Aloy, uncomfortable now by the slight shifting of her feet and the way her eyes tilt toward the ceiling. “You don’t have to stay.”

“It’s not… the circumstances.” Aloy bites the words out. “I just… thought… you don’t want me here.”

Hani takes a soft breath. She leans over, reaching her hands. “Aloy?”

The huntress looks at her, listening. “I want you here. I don’t know _ why _ you think I wouldn’t. But I do. I’ve always been weird about my lady bits, I didn’t even like doctor’s checking them and that’s their job, so if I’m uncomfortable it's not you.” She licks her lips, leans a little further to grab Aloy’s hands. Her thumbs run across the strong, warm skin there, slowly, causing the woman to relax. “It will never be you. You make me feel safe. Safer than—safer than I ever have.”

Hani grins playfully. “I feel like I’ve told you this before actually.”

“You haven’t.” Aloy looks at their hands, the loving, tranquil way Hani holds her own. “I never was able to tell you before Nil interrupted but…” Her eyes burn. She blinks quickly. “I think you are my new home. I feel better with you. Safer, too.”

“_ Oh _.”

Aloy’s head snaps up to see Hani’s slack expression, eyes wide, mouth opened in a gentle o. Then a small, tender smile grows.

“Oh. I don’t know how to…” Hani laughs weakly, shyly. “We are really sappy.”

“I really don’t want to interrupt,” ELEUTHIA speaks up, mournful, “but I really must finish the exam on Hani. Gaia would be just as hard pressed to make sure you completed these steps as well, Aloy, if you decided to have children from your body. And I would concur.”

“It’s okay, Eleuthia.” Aloy agrees, stepping back, her hands slipping through Hani’s. She feels bereft, stepping around to Hani’s head as the woman lays back, getting her feet in the stirrups. The AI tosses a blanket over Hani’s lap to cover her, pulls on a pair of gloves, and sits down in a little rolly seat.

Hani keeps her eyes on Aloy’s face, and the minute she feels the cold glove on her stomach she grimaces, trying to not pull away in discomfort as two fingers press into her. Aloy offers a hand and Hani takes it, though it doesn’t help her discomfort any.

The exam doesn’t last that long, but Hani is definitely grumpy by the end of it.

“I found nothing out of the ordinary.”

ELEUTHIA moves away, removes the gloves, and disposes of them. “You may put your underclothes back on, Hani. I shall perform the ultrasound now.”

Hani gratefully gets up and yanks her underwear and pants on, leaving them just a little low for the ultrasound, always feeling just a bit weird after a pelvic exam. Honestly, she wasn’t even fond of touching herself down there. Aloy had been the only one she’d… _ ahem _.

Hani turns her mind away from that, focusing on doing as the AI instructed in laying down on the bed.

ELEUTHIA all but twirls her seat to the sonography machine, turning to the two women. “Would you like me to explain before, after, or during about how far along the fetus is?”

“During.”

The two make eye contact at the twin agreements, Hani grinning so wide her teeth showed as Aloy gave a vague, fond smile.

“During it is,” ELEUTHIA agrees delightedly, and tugs up Hani’s shirt to reveal her stomach fully. She squeezes the water based gel into a little puddle on Hani’s stomach and spreads it. It’s cold, making gooseflesh raise on her arms.

Aloy watches raptly, curious. The AI turns little switches and presses a few buttons, powering up the machine. The screen was thin and see-through, much like a data pad from _ Detroit: Become Human _ or the scrolls from _ RWBY _. Hani pays more attention to that, watching the way it goes from clear to pitch black, no longer see-through.

“You became pregnant about three months—almost twelve weeks—ago at this point, correct?” ELEUTHIA asks, not waiting for confirmation before continuing. It gently presses the wand to Hani’s belly. A black screen starts to pick up white and gray images, depth deepening from nothingness. Hani holds her breath, eyes getting rounder. She hears Aloy’s breath hitch, watching. The AI is carefully moving the wand, looking for an image. “Between two and three months, the body has finished forming. Hands, feet, toes, arms, legs. Then the chances of miscarriage drop because the crucial development has passed. The external part of the ears should be completed by now.” ELEUTHIA sounds amazed as she talks, looking at the screen intently. “We’ll be able to tell gender in a few weeks.”

The AI makes a little trilling noise, and Hani can see the blurry outline of a creature. Aloy’s hands touch the one Hani has laid on her sternum, lightly, reverential, clasping it in warmth and calluses. Hani glances at her, sees the way Aloy’s eyes are locked on the ultrasound, slack with wonder.

The image is blurry, but she can see a head, bulbous, comical in proportion to the little body it was attached to. Tiny arms tucked close to a miniscule chest, legs scrunched in too. And so small. No bigger than a plum. They would fit snuggly in Hani’s palm. It was terrifying. The _ baby _ was terrifying. And exciting.

“This is your baby.” ELEUTHIA says happily. “Looks to be ten fingers and toes. A little small, but nothing to be worried about.” She wiggles. “They are definitely going to be a healthy baby.” ELEUTHIA looks to them. “Would you like to have a picture?”

“Yes.”

At the breathless whisper Hani utters, ELEUTHIA nods, messes with a few buttons on the side of the machine, and there's a chime from their focuses and the machine. Hani doesn’t look away from the screen.

It was suddenly so real, in a weirdly exhilarating way. Hand held by Aloy, looking at this tiny thing they had created—fuck if either knew how—and Hani finally, _ finally _ let go of the last vestiges of worry she had felt that this was purely for the baby. Somehow it was gone now, glad to be let go of, glad to say goodbye and turn towards _ this _.

Hani turns her head, looking at Aloy. “Can I toss Noemi into the name running?”

Aloy looks down at her. There are _ tears _ in her eyes. “Yes. Yes. The more the, the merrier.” The huntress laughs. “We’ll be mothers.”

“Yes.” Hani pulls Aloy’s hands to her lips, kisses them. “Yes, we will.”


	27. With Child

“So we tell them that All Mother wanted to gift me with a kid made of Aloy and me.” Hani says. “I feel like a complete wretch lying to Teersa.”

“She did,” ELEUTHIA says from where she is cleaning up… something. The AI seem to be constantly cleaning and repairing things. “To the Nora, Gaia is All Mother.”

“I know but I still feel bad.” Hani touches her stomach, smiling a little. “Teersa will be excited though. Grandma’s love getting grandbabies. My grandmother was over the moon when my dad told her about me.”

ELEUTHIA pauses. “‘Over the moon’ is another figure of speech.”

“Yep. Means super excited and happy.”

ELEUTHIA nods. “I am over the moon to be interacting with others beyond my siblings.” ELEUTHIA gives her a sweet, heartbreaking smile. “It can be lonely having only my siblings and mother for company.”

Hani’s heart goes out to the AI. She was built to interact with humanity, being stuck in isolation can be damaging. “Why not join us? The servitor seems to be functioning well enough.”

ELEUTHIA shakes their head. “No, no. The movements can still be quite jerky. And the whine of gears can be heard.” The AI nervously toys with her fingers, not meeting Hani’s eyes. “And the Nora are very superstitious. I would very much like to be able to blend in, experience the world from the perspective of everyone else.”

“Well,” Hani reaches out to set her hand over ELEUTHIA’s, stilling the nervous flutterings, “I’ll be visiting a lot. Whenever you’re ready, just let me know.”

ELEUTHIA looks up, meeting her eyes. “Thank you. I shall keep your words in mind.”

Aloy comes from the control room then, looking prepared to face a hurricane. “Are you ready?”

“Yep.” Hani leans to give ELEUTHIA a hug, who delightedly returns the gesture, before making her way to Aloy’s side. “Let's face the music.”

They head for the exit of the Cradle after giving ELEUTHIA one more warm goodbye. The AI wishes them a happy day and returns to moving around, cleaning and rectifying whatever had fallen into disrepair. 

Hani hates passing through these not quite turnstiles. It’s like going to an amusement park, one that has become overgrown and wild. Hani tells Aloy this, promising to explain amusement parks later.

The door decompresses with a hiss, opening wide to let them out. The Matriarchs stand, eager to approach. Only Teersa fully does, placing a warm hand on each woman. “Aloy, Hani, does the Goddess bring good news?”

Hani and Aloy exchange looks, deciding who would speak first. “Yes,” Aloy begins gently, “we do.”

Hani swallows. “The Goddess wanted to bestow upon us a gift.” She smiles, trying to put as much genuineness into it as possible. “The gift of a child. I’m pregnant.”

Teersa’s eyes widen, a large smile splitting her face. “Truly?”

Hani nods, unable to find further words. Luckily, Aloy knows what to say.

“The baby is to be born in another 6 or so months, and She wishes to be kept up to date on the baby’s well being.” Aloy takes a breath. “And be present for the birth.”

“Of course!” Teersa agrees, radiant in her excitement. “To be there at the birth of your grandchild is a gift!”

“We must have a place prepared for the Anointed and her mate near here.” Jezza says. “Even within the Mountain.”

“I don’t think that, that’ll be needed.” Hani tries to explain. “I can make the journey from Mother’s Heart to here. No problem.”

“You will be able to until further along.” Jezza argues. “And the winter here is harsh on those unused to it. And always biting for women with child. The mountain is warm, close. All-Mother shall protect you.”

Hani curls her hands into fists. She didn’t want to sleep in the mountain. While it was warm, it would isolate her, isolate them. Hani liked her privacy but she didn’t want isolation. No pedestals.

“I will move to the mountain in the last month of my pregnancy,” Hani asserts, unable to help her glare. “I want to be around people and I want to help. Staying here will do the opposite.”

Lansra puffs up to argue, but Teersa intervenes, ever gentle and ever calm. “We understand.” Her eyes cut to Jezza, who looks equally as put upon as Lansra, but easing under Teersa’s words. “Mothers know what is best for them and their child, as we well know. You carry the child, and so you decide. Your body, your child, your choices.”

It throws Hani to hear those words. She was used to fighting for her body, her choices, so much she’d gotten used to it. She looks between the Matriarchs, Lansra who looks ashamed now and Jezza who has softened considerably, and Teersa, soft and warm and what their Goddess preached that mothers should be.

“Thank you.” Hani bows her head to them. “I hope to be a good mother.”

“You shall.” Teersa looks at Aloy. “Both of you.”

The huntress smiles shyly. “Thank you, Teersa.”

“I only do as the Goddess wishes, Aloy.”

And yes, Teersa did.


	28. Warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update today!

“How big are newborn babies?”

Hani nibbles her lip, plans and schematics for baby clothing open on her Focus, near overflowing the screen.

“I’ll need to see about blankets and hats, go see if Olara will take me on as an apprentice.” Hani would pace at any other time, but she had been extremely queasy the last few hours and so stayed laid down. There was so much to plan, and it felt as though she had no time. “A crib needs to be bought or built. A baby carrier for when we go on the road. Oh mother Danu…”

“We have time.” Aloy soothes from where she is making fresh fire arrows, a few feet away from her and a safe distance from the fire.

“I know, I know.” Hani carefully sits up, turning her Focus off. “But it's so much. And what to do for diapers? Rags? We can’t clean them properly on the road, there's no soap.” Oh she could feel her heart pounding. What if the baby got an infection? What about rashes? Babies were so prone to them. They were so soft and weak. And that head thing, Cradle Cap or whatever. The medicine was so far behind she was worried the baby would get sick and die. “Maybe we should stay in one place and raise her until she’s potty trained? Hunter’s Gathering or Free Heap? She’ll be walking and talking by then, too. The risk of something happening and being too far to get help is less high.” She rubs her mouth, hand slips down to her neck. “But we need to find Thebes. Faro might have not have destroyed his copy of Apollo…”

“Hani.”

Her head snaps around, looking at Aloy with wide, worried eyes. The huntress looks at her calmly. “We can do this. We’ll figure everything out before the baby comes, and it will be fine.”

“How are you so sure?” Hani demands. “There’s so many variables.  _ Too  _ many.”

“Because I know us.”

Hani falls silent. Aloy has set aside the canister she filled with blaze. She stands among her nest of ridgewood, wire, canisters, and blaze. She steps around it lightly, coming over to the bed, sits on the edge.

Aloy grabs Hani’s closest hand. “You are extremely capable and self-reliant, even if in criteria different to me, you also are calm under immediate stress. The baby will be fine. They have two very efficient mothers.” She lifts the hand up, pressing her forehead to it, then flips the limp appendage over. She kisses the cool palm, slow and warm.

A little ember tickles Hani’s stomach, threatening to catch her on fire. She swallows, thickness in her throat of a different feeling than moments before. Aloy looks at her, cool and calm.

“Our baby will grow up safe and well taught. They will be happy and kind and funny.” Aloy smiles, awkward but sweet. “Because of their mothers.”

Hani leans forward without thought, pressing her mouth to Aloy’s, cold bitten and dry, eyes wide open as she does so. Aloy’s eyes widen a bit and Hani pulls back, the kiss brief, quick, short.

Hani covers her eyes, ducking her head. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have asked. I’m so, so sorry.”

Aloy pulls her hand from her eyes. Hani looks at her, unsure of what to expect. Aloy searches her eyes, debating, then closes the distance, kissing her.

She makes a little noise in her throat, a keen. Aloy pulls back, unsure.

“No, no.” Hani shakes her head. “It was good.”

Aloy nods, tilts her head to kiss Hani’s neck. She trembles in the huntress’s hold.

They peel off their clothes, touching and caressing long expanses of flesh. Tanned, taunt skin criss-crossed by scars, burning hot and light. Pale, pliant flesh, nicked in the fingers and knees, cooled by the early autumn.

“Are you okay?” Hani asks, breathless, crouched over Aloy.

“I am.” Aloy reaches out, palm smoothing along Hani’s round cheek. Hani leans into the touch, humming. “Are you?”

“Yes.”

Her chest is warm in a good way, heart heavy as though filled with hearty food.

“Yes, I am okay.”

Aloy pulls her down, pulls her in. Hani follows, willingly, happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally nothing angsty can ever happen in this fic. My heart wouldn't allow it.


	29. Olara

Hani sits at the edge of the pond, repairing the tear in Aloy’s tunic. It was a thick, heavy cotton, dark brown and perfect for blending in among the trees and foliage in the warmer months. Aloy had been walking around in one of her lighter shirts because this one had a giant, uncomfortable hole in the side, and her mending skills could use some major work.

Hani’s toes drag against the top of the water, sending out little ripples. The water was frigid, ice cold and dangerous. She kept herself far enough back that the backs of her knees dug into the dock, body leaned back just a little.

The sun was uncovered that day, nearly overhead as noon approached. It rained down sweet heat, long fingers dragging across her chilly bare hands as her dark clothes soaked up the sun’s heat, sinking past the furs and cottons and leathers she wore. The wind chill wasn’t as bad as usual, as if too tired to make an attempt. This was good for Hani, as she was planning to be outside most of the day and in Mother’s Cradle.

Aloy was elsewhere that day, doing things for GAIA that the AI couldn’t do herself. Repairs, mostly. And accessing the ruins no longer deemed “Tainted” but still avoided by most Nora. If they weren’t so hard to reach, Hani would go exploring them. She wanted to see the ruins of the old world, wanted to lay to rest the skeletons left behind by the Old Ones.

Maybe after the baby. After Thebes. After she helped GAIA with the animal husbandry.

It would take time, but she’d do her best.

“Hani?”

Looking up at her name, she finds Olara standing there, a basket of folded cloth in her arms. There is a curious smile on her lips, looking over Hani, her braids, down to her clothing. Hani careful sticks her needle into a tough patch of cloth in the shirt, folds it up, and gets up, careful to keep her balance leaned towards the dock. Olara takes several steps back to allow her room, then comes closer, gently touching Hani’s elbow to help steady her.

“A messenger sent by one of the Matriarch’s said you wished to see me?”

“Yes.”

After exiting the Cradle and All-Mother Mountain, the two stayed in Mother’s Heart for little over a week. Aloy had helped hunting parties while Hani stayed within the cabin, extremely queasy when not tired, kept company by GAIA. She would venture out for fresh air, taking slow, slow walks near the lodge, and people would acknowledge her in a very kind, if slightly reverential, way. It had made her skin prickle unpleasantly, realizing that before the Nora had even had a chance to know her she’d become deified.

Just because of a baby.

Varl had been a saving grace, visiting her around lunch time each day, inviting her to eat with him and the other Braves. She had declined the first day, terrified she’d throw up or oust herself as an Old One. But the following day, Varl had appeared with enough food to be shared between them. They had talked, mostly her asking questions of him, but her answering any he had for her.

He had trouble believing her to be an Old One, but that was fine by her. Technically speaking, she wasn’t because she came from an Earth where this never happened. That little tidbit she never told Varl, as even Aloy didn’t acknowledge it unless reminded. Some things were just hard to comprehend, and even Hani didn’t like remembering she’s not from this Earth.

The fourth day, she had asked to eat with the Braves. She was still queasy, yes, but being cooped up inside more than two to three days tended to drive her a little bonkers. Not Jack Torrence levels, mind you, but she was still itching to get out.

The Braves stationed in Mother’s Heart had welcomed her well enough. Hesitantly, unsure of how to speak with her, but Varl’s easy familiarity and candor had them welcoming her quick enough. She had mostly listened and watched, not having much to add to their conversations. The noise was good to have, the lodge quiet when she was alone. She ate little, because her stomach wasn’t easy on itself, but she enjoyed what she did eat.

The Braves had liked her even if she had been quiet, and she had returned the following day. She talked a little more, mostly about how she liked the Embrace and how different it was from her home tribe. There was unease at the reminder she wasn’t Nora, but Varl stopped that in its tracks.

Aloy had returned and she had stuck to the lodge the next two days with Aloy. Hani had eagerly shared how her days had been, sworn everyone had been nice.

Aloy had listened, and shared how her own days had gone. Quiet mostly, the hunting party focused on the hunt. But they had asked how she was dealing with a wife carrying their child, instead of Aloy herself.

That had made Hani bristle a little. The child was still Aloy’s. Equally theirs, made from their DNA. Hani carrying the baby didn’t change that. And Aloy agreed.

Then Aloy explained she had agreed to help GAIA with the nearest Cauldron, and would be gone for a few days. Three at most. Would Hani be okay being alone for three days? Did she want Aloy to speak with the Matriarchs, see if someone could stay with Hani?

“The fussing is sweet, but unnecessary. I have plenty of wood,” Hani shook her head. “And like I said, the Braves are welcoming enough. I’ll be fine.” After a moment, she shrugs. “I’ll see if Olara will take me as an apprentice while you’re gone.”

“If you’re sure.” Aloy concedes.

One of the lesser Matriarchs had sent a messenger to Olara, but it was on Aloy’s asking. Aloy had left that morning, before dawn had even flushed blue, and Hani had risen a little later, had a light breakfast, and made the trek to Mother’s Cradle. It helped GAIA had sent a Watcher to walk with her so she didn’t get lost. Hani had bad directional skills in the Embrace, especially because she didn’t understand the Nora markers  _ and _ she easily got distracted looking at everything.

Now here she was.

Hani brushes a hand over Aloy’s shirt, and asks, “I wished to know if you’d take me as your apprentice?”

“Being a Stitcher is a hard profession,” Olara warns. “You may be asked to make entire outfits within only days. You must know how to tan hide and spin cotton, to make entire loomworks of cloth.”

“Okay.” Hani knew how to clean and spin cotton, had even done so. She knew how to cut cloth as fine as silk. “I’ve made clothing for an entire family before. I’m fast with a needle, and quick at ripping seams.”

“You know how to handle Carja clothes,” Olara says. “It’s nothing like ours.”

Hani smiles. “Then teach me. Please. I don’t like being idle while everyone else works.”

Olara inspects her further, from her hair to her toes. “You’ve mended the clothing you’re wearing?”

“Yes.”

Olara nods. “Then you aren’t completely hopeless.” She holds out an arm. “Follow me. I’ll teach you.”


	30. Family

Hani stays in Mother’s Cradle that night. Olara is glad to have her and Brom reminds Hani of her brother, kind and a little awkward, bothered by his schizophrenia with no way to combat it except through his sister.

She’ll ask GAIA about medicine for the man’s schizophrenia later.

They eat together, separate from the rest of the settlement. Hani can guess why, but ends up asking, over roasted geese, nuts, and bittersweet berries, “You don’t eat with everyone else?”

“No.” Olara pours water into Brom’s cup, made from freshly thawed snow and cold as it too. “They are glad to have us, but are still wary of… prevalent issues.”

They leave it at that, and Hani turns it instead to asking how long Olara had become a Stitcher, if it was her mother’s or father’s profession before hers. It was her father’s, steady work that helped the tribe and kept her close to home always.

Said home is small and warm, and Hani will sleep by the fire in her travel blankets. It is the best place for an expecting mother in early autumn through winter, according to Olara, as if speaking from experience. They will start with making clothes for Hani first, as she would grow more as she carried the child, skin thinning over time. Then Olara would teach her leather, armor, and many Nora stitches. And, if she wanted, clothes for the baby.

Hani was a good seamstress, Olara admitted, pleased to see the woman’s work on Aloy’s shirt and on Hani’s own clothing, done quickly, closely, and efficiently. But that meant nothing if Hani could not make armor too.

“The machines may be calmed thanks to the Anointed,” Olara says, “but that doesn’t mean Braves will not face other threats, be it animals, machines, or people.”

“True,” Hani agrees, somewhat bitterly. She hated that humans never seemed to change, but understood it was human nature. “I’m at your mercy, Olara.”

They clean their dishes and retire inside for the night. Olara gives her a pile of cloth and orders Hani to make three shirts and two pants. Hani blinks at Olara. “What are the measurements?”

“Mine,” Olara says after a moment. “They must be loose. We make the clothes and the armor, but only armor must fit perfectly. Those who purchase typical clothing must mend them to fit themselves.”

Hani thinks of Aloy’s sheildweaver armor. Aloy has never worn it around Hani, but she has seen it in the bottom of Aloy’s pack, made by her wife’s own hands from scrapes of ancient tech and modern leather. Hani nods at Olara’s command, already reaching for her pouch of tools. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Olara stares for a moment and then nods, turning to her own chair and her own work.

That is how the next few days go. Hani marks and cuts and stitches, faster with cotton than she’s ever been with silk. Sometimes outside at the dock, others inside by the fire, with Brom for company quite often. He is quiet, calm, and always just a little awkward. Unsure of why she is so unafraid of him.

“My brother is like you.” Hani says when they are sat by the fire on her second day in Mother’s Cradle, her doing a quick loop stitch. It was sturdy, saved string, and very pretty artistically. She’d hate to see the seams ripped, but oh well. “He hears voices, and sometimes sees things. They told him to do violent, mean things. But he typically didn’t. The one time he did, I cried and cried and he didn’t listen to them after. Not with me present, anyway.” Hani looks at her work, not wanting to know what expression Brom wore.

“Did he... hurt you?”

Hani shakes her head. “No. He hurt himself the first time, another time our mother, even our uncle. But never me.” Hani ties off her work, cuts the thread. “Lukas was a good man. I miss him.”

“He’s dead?”

“No.” Hani frowns. He wouldn’t have taken her disappearance well, though. But she never spoke to him often, having become distant in her fear of him. Unfounded, when towards her, but it had lingered all the same. “Just far from me. Far away, back with my birth tribe.”

Brom does not respond. Which is all for the better as Hani isn’t sure she’d know how to respond.

Living here in this world has made her miss her home, though the pain has been soothed by the friends she’d made, the woman she’s married, and the baby to prepare for. Brom reminds her starkly of her brother, however, reminds her that he didn’t always have that distant bland look Nil wore when he thought himself free of scrutiny. He laughed, with a wide smile showing teeth that had worn braces for too long. Lukas could cry too, and did, face red and splotchy as her own got, with snot and red-rimmed eyes. That bland look was when he got off his meds, when he couldn’t afford them or he was sick of having to take them.

And she missed the rest of her family. Her aunt and uncles, her dad, her grandmothers and grandfathers. Her dog and hamster. It was her friends she missed most, though. Wiggie with her insane, wonderful, beautiful Dragon Age ideas, Lea and her rants about the Egg, Stacey and her adventures in college, and Noemi. Her best friend who lived on the other side of the US, was funny and kind, handled stress like a goddess, and was an all-round fantastic person. And insane for putting up with Hani.

Hanging with Brom has brought all that pain back up to the surface, stark white against the colorful backdrop she’s found herself in.

“I am sure…” Brom hesitates as Hani lifts her head, looking at him. He fiddles with a pecan he was shelling, apart of a bowl he was working on to go with the evening meal. “I am sure he misses you just as much, and awaits your return.”

Hani blinks her eyes to keep away the tears. “I cannot return. They are farther than the Forbidden West, Brom. And,” she swallows, “it’s a journey that kills everyone.”

“It did not kill you,” Brom points out. “And the Anointed has been to the Forbidden West. She has probably been beyond that, too. She goes as far as All-Mother’s reach.”

“Which is the entire world,” Hani murmurs, to the man’s nod.  _ But she cannot travel to the past, or a world away _ , Hani thinks disparagingly.

Not that she would ask her too. It was an impossible feat. And Aloy had a world to care for, anyway. Her old life and family was gone. Not dead, but too far for her to even say goodbye to. And that was fine, because she had mourned them. Quietly and when alone, though the grief still reared its head sometimes like it had today. But it would be fine.

Her Focus beeps with an incoming call from Aloy, the very first one they’ve had since GAIA had connected them to a network. She excuses herself from Brom, leaving the hut and going around the back of the cabin, answering the call as she makes sure no one is around. As always the home is avoided, no one coming near unless they needed Olara, who wasn’t home.

Aloy appears in blue and purple pixelation, looking chuffed. And full of exhilaration, if the More Windswept Than Usual quality of her hair is anything to go off of. Hani’s spirits lift upon seeing Aloy, smiling at her wife.

“Have a good day?” Hani asks, leaning against the cabin’s wall and crossing her arms.

“Yes.” And finally Aloy grins. “There were some leaks none of the machines could reach to repair, and I should be done in a few hours. I can be back by noon tomorrow.” She shifts her weight in the holo and asks, “Are you still in Mother’s Cradle?”

“Yes. Olara took me as her apprentice.”

“Good. Your work is as good as Teb’s.”

“Hoho!” Hani laughs. “That’s high praise, seeing as I heard that’s what caught Captain Balahn’s eye to begin with. That man has high standards.”

“It was actually Teb’s decision for strategically placed supply caches,” Aloy explains. “He looked over where Balahn and Janeva expected the heaviest fighting to be, found the sturdiest buildings, and placed caches for us.”

“A competence kink.” Hani nods gravely. “A good reason to court someone.”

“Yes.” Aloy agrees, still grinning but it steadily softening into something fonder. “I have something for you.”

Hani’s eyebrows go up, can’t help but lean forward a fraction in interest. “You do? What is it?”

“A secret.”

Hani laughs again. “That isn’t fair. Now I have to wait with anticipation.”

Aloy shrugs. “Just a day. Less, even.”

“I have zero patience, you know that.”

“I do. Which is why you’ll get some practice.”

Hani groans to Aloy’s pleased huff of laughter. “Fiiine,” she whines, entirely playful. She really just wanted to see Aloy again. She missed her. And Hani didn’t normally miss people so easily.

She didn’t miss anyone so fast, and that… oh. And so she can’t help but say, tenderly and softly, not wanting to say the other with them far apart, “I miss you, Aloy.”

Aloy straightens, surprise evident. Then she says, just as softly, “I miss you too, Hani.”

She can see Olara coming back to the cabin and Hani realizes they’ll have to end the call soon. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, babe?”

“Yes,” Aloy agrees. “At noon.”

“Good. I have something for you too.”

“I look forward to it.”

They end the call, and Hani comes back inside just after Olara. She claims a message from All-Mother and they leave it there.

Hani finds herself working faster, wanting to finish as much of her work as able before Aloy came back. Though ever careful to keep her stitching clean and even. There is anticipation thrumming in her veins, excited to see Aloy again.

She cannot wait to see her wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another double upload! Are you guys ready for the end?


	31. Love

Aloy dismounts the strider, making her way through the small settlement to Olara’s home. Brom is on the porch, carving something from a chunk of wood. At her approach he looks up and stands, bowing before Aloy can ask him not to.

“Anointed! I am honored by your visit.”

“Please, Brom,” Aloy sighs, “you know I don’t like the title.”

The man gives a brief look of consternation. “And I can make my own opinions.”

Aloy nods, remembering when Teb had given near those exact words to her, though he’d been kind enough to never call her “Anointed” after that one instance. “Yes. Yes, you can.”

Brom fiddles with the wood, one that has the vaguest shape of a Broadhead. A child’s toy. “Is Hani inside?”

Brom shakes his head. “No. She normally goes and works by the lake after lunch.”

Aloy isn’t sure how she’d missed her. Despite her clothing, Hani stuck out like a sore thumb. It was her pale skin and the way she sat, back straight and shoulders back like Avad or Talanah.

So she thanks Brom, and heads back to the lake.

Hani is where Brom said she would be, a pair of pants in her lap, boots with her socks tucked into them beside her so her toes would touch the water. Children run around playing games to one side of her, and a few men fish on the other, hiding her from view as kids ran back and forth, playing tag or, from what Aloy can hear of the kids shouting, Braves and Watchers.

She walks across the boards and sits beside Hani. She can see her mate’s lips curve up in a smile.

“How close are you to being done?”

Aloy could see these were nearly finished, but knowing Olara there was more work to do.

“One more,” Hani says, looking at her. “Though she might allow me to bring them back later.”

“Good.” Aloy touches her forehead to Hani’s. Her mate settles a hand over Aloy’s. “I’m taking you to the Cradle.”

Hani cannot help but say, “We are in the Cradle.”

Aloy huffs, pulling away. Her look is flat, wry amusement at the edge of her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Hani begins to tie off the end of the pants. “But it’s fun.”

They return to the cabin. Olara is back by then and allows Hani to go after Aloy says they’re needed at the mountain. She demands the second pair of pants be returned immediately, which Hani promises to do.

Olara hugs Hani, says in the woman’s ear, “Thank you.”

Before she can ask “for what”, the woman has stepped back. “Those quick to pack are quick on their journey,” Olara says, pointing inside. “Hurry up.”

Hani grins. “Fine, fine.”

She puts away everything she’d brought, shouldering the pack. She thanks Olara once more and stops by Brom, still wheedling away at the little wooden figurine.

“I’ll see you later, Brom,” she bids.

He looks up at her. “Yes.” He smiles, weakly. “Thank you. I hope you one day see your brother again.”

_ Not in this life_, she knows that intrinsically. _ Maybe in another_.

Instead she tells Brom, “So do I. Be good for your sister.”

The two set off down the trail.

“They like you,” Aloy says as they cross a bridge.

“I’m kind of surprised,” Hani shrugs. “But they’re good people, so I shouldn’t have been.”

Hani seeks out her wife’s hand, holding it, caressing it with her thumb.

“I missed you,” Hani tells her once again. “And I,” she licks her lips, as Aloy looks right at her, seeming to look through her, to know what she’s about to say, and listens. “I love you.”

Aloy closes her eyes, pleased, cheeks pinked. “I love you too.”

Aloy squeezes her hand. “I’m not taking you to the Cradle, actually.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” Aloy points at a cliff edge, far up the mountain side, with a familiar wooden gate. “I want to show you something up there.”

“I have literally no upper body strength,” Hani protests. “I’ll get myself killed.”

“There’s a walking path,” Aloy promises, tugging her towards the mountain side now. “Odd Grata uses it.”

Well who was she to argue against it now? She’d always wanted to see that overlook in person, anyway.

“Let’s go then.”


	32. Should Put A Ring On It

The sun is beginning to set by the time they reach the overlook. There is a fine chill settling, and Aloy builds up the smouldering fire for them immediately. There is a tent already set up, and it feels like they’re once again on the road.

A part of her misses traveling with Aloy, a part of her misses their little lodge, and another part isn’t looking forward to traveling after the baby’s birth. Women’s bodies change after a baby, are weaker and sometimes slower, more prone to illness.

She stands by the fire, holding her elbows. “I’ll be different after the baby,” Hani says. “I won’t be as strong any more.”

Aloy says nothing, working on setting up a simple dinner for them.

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“No.” Aloy looks up, meeting her gaze. “You are only as weak as you allow yourself to be. And you have never been anything other than strong. You can’t run miles, or jump from rock to rock, but I don’t expect you to. Your strengths lie elsewhere.”

Her heart swells, feeling fit to bursting. She says it again, unable to help herself now that she can, “I love you, Aloy.”

Aloy ducks her head, briefly shy, then looks back, grinning. “You’re going to say that all the time now aren’t you.”

“Yes. Because it’s true. I love you.”

“I love you.”

They slip into a pleasant silence. She watches Aloy work, one of her blankets wrapped around her.

She can’t wait to start traveling again, suddenly, to Free Heap and back to Meridian, beyond that to Thebes. To the Cut, one day. And maybe beyond to Ban-Ur. She would see GAIA Prime, the Cauldrons, the Zero Dawn Project Facility under Sunfall. And with their child (a daughter, Hani knows this without a doubt) to witness it all, to see the beauty of the world and learn about its past. And they’d travel as far as they could, to the ends of the Earth, to meet other tribes and people, to learn with and about them.

“Hani?”

“Hm?” She looks up from the fire and feels her mind grind to a halt. Aloy has come around the fire, and is knelt on one knee. It takes her a very long minute to realize what Aloy has in her palm, two metal rings, one looped on a fine chain hanging from Aloy’s neck beside Rost’s pendant. A delighted heat stings the back of her eyes, a wide smile breaks across her face. “_Oh. _”

“I was told that usually when you ask a person to marry them, the ring is presented at that moment,” Aloy explains. “And is done in a much more ‘romantic’, usually private fashion.”

A tiny need to argue bubbles up, to tell Aloy she didn’t _ need _ to do this. The beads and knowledge were enough. But she doesn’t, because she wants this. Badly.

“So I brought you here.” Aloy swallows. “You love this world and the people so much you’ve cried about it, and this is the best place to see the entire world you love. And I want you to know I’ll be with you every step you take here, even if not always in person.”

Hani covers her mouth, a sob rising up. Tears fall down her cheeks. She kneels to be eye level with Aloy, cupping the side of Aloy’s face in one trembling hand.

“Will you be my mate, my wife, my companion?” Aloy asks, undeterred by Hani’s movements, by her tears.

“Yes.” Hani rasps, and presses her forehead to Aloy’s, closing her eyes. “Yes. I agreed once, and I’m agreeing now. I’ll be yours. Long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever, then?”

Hani laughs, a soft, brief sound of ecstasy.

“Yes. Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand that's a wrap for the Knocked Up AU! I may write a sequel, as I do have one in mind, but the Chaos Chat has given me another insane AU that's gripped me tight and riding is my ass to Hell and back. If I hit 20 chapters on that one, I swore to post it.
> 
> .....I'm working on it's chapter 19 now.


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